At Least Once More, Miss Swann
by oh-you-pretty-things
Summary: Propriety, society and love almost never go hand in hand. WE. Set at the very beginning of COTBP and spanning beyond. ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY
1. Fated Meeting

DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'Pirates of the Caribbean' or any of the characters associated with the film franchise. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: This is set at the very beginning of COTBP and spans up until the main events of the film. Basically, I can't help myself. ;) _

Was she an angel? An angel with lovely brown curls, wide dark eyes and…freckles? The salt water in his eyes was distorting his view. He blinked once and gripped the angel's wrist fiercely. She gasped in surprise. Her face calmed instantly and the angel spoke.

"It's okay. My name is Elizabeth Swann," she said clearly, with a confidence that he had not heard in a girl of her age. She _must_ be an angel.

"Will…Turner," he gasped out as he began to see spots before his eyes. The angel was fading from his perception, but he still managed to hear her words in the fog.

"I'm watching over you, Will."

He didn't know Miss Swann and yet, for some strange reason, her words touched him. He _believed _that she was watching over him. Under the safe protection of his guardian angel, Miss Elizabeth Swann, the pirates could not harm him. He would live to see another day, live to find his father. He lost consciousness without a fight.

When next Will awoke, his pretty angel was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found himself in a cabin under the very staunch watch of a rather severe looking gentleman. He was not a man to be reckoned with and Will considered, briefly, pretending to be asleep again. It was too late, however, and the man had already noted that Will had awoken.

"William Turner, is it?" he asked. Will swallowed hard and nodded. The man regarded the boy for a moment before speaking again.

"Lieutenant Norrington," he said crisply. "It appears, William, that you are the only survivor of the ship. Can you tell me what happened?"

Will took a moment to reply. The screams of the people on board still echoed in his mind, the blood he'd seen flow still ran before his eyes, the fear he had felt was still so very clear. He swallowed back a sob. It would do no good to cry. He had nothing now with his mother dead and his father forever lost at sea. If his own journey was any indication, he could well imagine that his father was also lost to the depths. A deep sense of loss filled him suddenly. His heart was empty and he was alone. William Turner was alone in the world and this cold lieutenant was asking him for details. So be it.

"I bought a passage on the ship to travel through these seas in search of my father. My father was a merchant sailor. I hoped that in travelling the seas I might find him. Instead," Will paused and shuddered in remembrance, "Instead I found that my search might be hopeless. With pirates on the seas, I fear my father is already dead."

Lieutenant Norrington narrowed his eyes at the boy, taking a moment to absorb his story. "Do you know what happened to the ship you were sailing on?"

"No, sir. I was sleeping when I felt a sudden rumble. I made my way on deck to find that we were being attacked by pirates. I heard a man exclaim 'The cargo is going to blow' and at that point, another man tossed me overboard. The ship exploded before I had resurfaced, I found a board and clung to it. I don't remember much after that, sir, except Miss Swann. Unless…she's real, isn't she?"

Lieutenant Norrington's face finally broke into a small, warm smile. "She is indeed. And, you had been placed under her charge. However, young ladies need their rest and I took over for her until now, Mr. Turner. I recommend you rest further. It will still be a few hours until daybreak."

With that, Lieutenant Norrington left the cabin to allow the boy a chance to rest further. Will collapsed back on his pillow and stared at the yellow light of the lantern. Miss Swann was real. He hadn't dreamt her to life. He smiled a tiny smile and yet he did not know why. He suddenly felt that he wasn't so alone after all. If he should be able to know Miss Swann, even a little, he could live for her. He could die for her. She was his angel. He closed his eyes and sighed. Will was surprised that he was still so tired even now. Sleep found him easily once again and he dreamed of morning.

The scent of porridge filled his nostrils and shocked him to waking. Will's stomach growled in angry, empty protest and he sat up abruptly. Shakily, he rested his feet on the floorboards and stood. He climbed the stairs slowly, following his nose. There. Behind this door, food awaited. He could smell it. Without another thought, he pushed the door open. Will blinked suddenly in embarrassment. Miss Swann stared back at him, her mouth wide open, spoon poised to make entry. A man sat next to her, much older and dressed in grandeur with a wig unlike any he'd ever seen. Will bowed quickly.

"My apologies," he said, back out of the door rapidly.

"Will!" he head in the delighted tones of Miss Swann. His eyes flew to her face instantly, watching her in rapt shock. She had a bright, wide smile. Will thought for a moment that surely, _surely_ she must be an angel. The man beside her also smiled.

"You must be hungry," he said kindly. Will's stomach, much to his embarrassment, growled in agreement. His cheeks flared red and Miss Swann giggled.

"Join us, my boy," the man said heartily, pulling a chair out and ushering Will into the room. Will sat down nervously, keeping his eyes on his plate. A servant rushed out and placed a bowl of steaming porridge on the plate and Will's eyes widened. He was starving. He started at his food slowly, trying to match the polite elegance of the two others at the table. He hadn't been brought up to know proper table manners and it was evident that he was trying his best. Will felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. The man looked down at him, and Will felt he was almost regal in appearance.

"Don't try so hard, my boy. Just eat!"

Will looked sheepishly at Miss Swann, his perfect angel. She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly and smiled warmly. Will took that expression as permission and began eating ravenously. He hadn't eaten in so long. He wasn't sure how long he had been floating on that board, but he had certainly been sleeping for a very long time. When he had had his fill, he wiped his face unceremoniously. Now he realized that he must make some sort of conversation – it was only polite to do so. He glanced from Miss Swann to the man, and back again. Miss Swann was smiling softly, some fierce little fire burning behind her eyes. There were questions there that Will could tell she knew were inappropriate, but she would ask them eventually anyway.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself," the man said warmly, "I am Governor Weatherby Swann. And you are?"

"Governor," Will whispered breathlessly, his eyes scanning from the man to his daughter. She _was_ an angel, or at least she was as far from his reach as any angel.

"William Turner, sir," Will said, eyes lowered respectfully.

Governor Swann smiled at the boy. "Of course. Elizabeth, I trust you can keep Mr. Turner occupied until the journey is through. I have to return to deck. Pleasure to meet you, William."

With that, Governor Swann had left the room with a smile on his lips. William Turner was perhaps a year older than Elizabeth, if that. At least he would keep her mind from pirates for the time being.

"Hello Will," she said brightly.

Will looked at her shyly. "Hello."

"I'm Elizabeth. I was watching over you yesterday."

"Yes, I know, Miss Swann," Will replied, his hand habitually rising to his neck. He did not see the smile fall from Elizabeth's face as he did so.

"Please, call me Elizabeth," she said, forcing the smile to return to her face.

Will's eyes drew up to hers, "I cannot, Miss Swann, it wouldn't be proper."

His life in England may have been many things, but he could never have presumed himself to be high enough in society to address an angel by her given name.

Miss Swann gave him a pretty sort of pout, but decided to let it go.

"Where are you from, Will?" she asked, fingering the gold medallion under the table.

"London, Miss Swann," Will replied tentatively.

"I, as well!" she exclaimed excitedly, "Where in London?"

Will did not smile, knowing that his answer may cost his friendship with this angel. "Cheapside, Miss Swann."

Miss Swann tilted her pretty head. "Cheapside? Really?"

Will nodded. Miss Swann smiled slightly and moved on directly to the next question. "And, where are your parents?"

"My mother died not three months ago, and my father was a merchant sailor on the seas. I came here to find him."

"Merchant sailor?"

"Yes," he said proudly, nodding with enthusiasm. His father was a good man and he hoped to find him.

"Were you going to Port Royal, as well?" she asked.

"Not necessarily," Will replied. Upon noting her sad face, he added, "But, it seems it's as good a place as any and I haven't any fare money to board another ship."

Elizabeth's face brightened. "Perhaps we can be friends, then!"

"I should like that, Miss Swann," Will said, smiling slightly, "I should like that very much."

Elizabeth smiled widely. She couldn't quite place it, but there was something about Will Turner. Something quietly dangerous. It only served to convince her that he was a pirate.

"Father told me that we should reach Port Royal promptly. Shall we go above and look for shore?"

The idea of solid ground beneath his feet made Will's heart soar. It had been nearly three months since he'd left England and he would be more than happy to make port. He nodded at Miss Swann and offered her his hand as she began to stand from her seat. Elizabeth smiled as she accepted his hand. If Will _was_ a pirate, then she wondered if all pirates were as courteous and thoughtful as him. She watched him as he led her through the door and carefully up the stairs. He handled her as if she were a precious treasure. As if _he_ was the one watching over _her_. She hoped with all her heart that he would stay at Port Royal forever because the chances were it would be just as dull as any other place she'd lived. With Will there, the opportunity for danger would always exist and Elizabeth Swann loved danger. She was drawn to it.


	2. A Bit of the Devil

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter…you tell me, okay? Love love. ;)_

Port Royal was unlike any place that Will had ever been with its white beaches and tropical foliage. A smile teased his face as he watched the shore become clearer and clearer on the not so distant horizon. He'd had more than enough of the sea. It was quite clear that he wasn't cut out to be a sailor. Or, at least that's what he kept telling himself despite the fact that he hadn't been seasick once and had found his sea legs almost instantly upon boarding. Will didn't fancy running into pirates ever again, or at least until he was well equipped to defend himself. How he was going to defend himself was still up for debate, but he would find a way. After all, he had Miss Swann to think of now.

Will stood steadily on the banister at the bow of the ship, eagerly awaiting solid ground beneath his feet. He hardly noticed when Miss Swann climbed up unsteadily beside him. Will turned abruptly catching her arm as she stumbled.

"Miss Swann! Are you alright?" he asked, still holding her small arm.

Elizabeth looked down at his hand in wonder and smiled shyly. Will suddenly remembered himself and released her, turning back to the sea.

"Father says you're to stay with us when we reach shore," she said contentedly, also turning to the sea.

"I am?"

"At least until he can find you a proper home. He says that he doesn't know many people in Port Royal just yet," Elizabeth looked at Will tentatively. "But, we'll have great fun in the meantime!"

Will smiled gently at her enthusiasm. It seemed too good to be true that he would be sharing the same home as his angel, at least temporarily. He knew that he shouldn't become too attached to her. They were both on the brink of adulthood; he at the age to start a decent apprenticeship and she at the age to begin proper preparations for her introduction into society. It wouldn't be long after that the courting would begin, and Will knew with his low station he'd never have a chance. So there was, again, no sense in getting attached. If only he hadn't already decided that no one else would do, even if he didn't know what that really meant just yet.

"We can read in the trees, walk on the beach, and," she paused, a wide smile growing across her face. "Learn to swim!"

Will laughed, "Will your father allow you to learn to swim?"

Elizabeth's face crumpled into a miserable frown, "He can't stop me."

Will merely regarded her with an amused half-smile. She returned it, with a slight addition – she stuck out her tongue.

"Elizabeth, Mr. Turner," a voice said from behind. They both turned. "I'll ask you two to come down from there now. We'll be making port shortly."

The voice belonged to Lieutenant Norrington. Will took one last look from his vantage point before turning to Miss Swann and helping her down from their precarious perch.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner," she said in mock formality before collapsing in a fit of giggles.

Will noticed the beginnings of a smile on Lieutenant Norrington's face. He shrugged it off and followed Elizabeth timidly. The pair joined Governor Swann in the middle of the deck.

"Mr. Turner," he said with a smile, "I trust Elizabeth has informed you that you will be staying with us for the time being. I imagine that when I am better acquainted with the townspeople, I will be able to find you a suitable home and possibly an apprenticeship."

"Thank you, sir," Will said with a slight bow. "You're very kind."

Governor Swann smiled and wrapped an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. Within minutes, the ship pulled up to a broad dock. Governor Swann was the first to leave the ship, followed by Elizabeth and a hesitant Will Turner. People from the town had gathered to catch a glimpse of the new Governor. They made a fine pair in their fanciful clothing, Governor Swann and Elizabeth. Will hung back behind them for fear of ruining that pretty image. Elizabeth glanced back over her shoulder and noticed Will following so uncertainly. She reached her hand out behind to him. Will stared at her hand and then at her sweet face in awe, before accepting. When his hand caught hers, he noticed several things. Firstly, her hand was so tiny in comparison to his. Secondly, she'd given his hand a comforting squeeze, which had worked quite well on his heart. Thirdly, he really, truly realized that no one else would ever do.

They boarded a grand carriage which carried them off to an even grander manor. Will felt even more out of place watching the servants carry his food to him at dinner. He should be among them, not being waited on by them. He was so nervous that he couldn't eat. Elizabeth had smiled at him subtly over her soup and Will had attempted to return it, however his face wouldn't cooperate. Whatever expression came of his attempts, it had certainly amused Miss Swann. She nearly spat out her soup in a fit of giggles earning a raised eyebrow from her father. Governor Swann turned his attentions to Will to see what the boy had done but merely shook his head, unable to discern the cause of Elizabeth's silliness.

Will was given an impressive room to sleep in while he stayed with the Swann's. It was so imposing, in fact, that he found himself quite unable to fall asleep. He wandered downstairs and began a silent exploration. He went to the first door that he'd found and pushed it too quickly, catching on that there was a light within all too late. He paused in fear of a reprimand from whoever was behind the door. Will's eyes narrowed in confused surprise.

"Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth stared back at him with wide eyes as she huddled in a corner with one tiny candle lit.

"Shh! Will, you scared the life out of me!" she hissed.

Will looked around the room and noted that it was lined with books. There was a large writing desk in one corner of the room and Will decided that it must be the Governor's study. He strode across the room to where Elizabeth was hunched over a large book.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"Reading, of course," she replied, although she had closed her book at this point and was watching Will with interest.

"Reading?" he asked. "What are you reading?"

"See for yourself," she said playfully, holding the book so that he could read the cover. Will looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

Elizabeth's face dropped. "What?" she asked, peering at the cover for some sign of offensive material.

"I…," Will hesitated. "I can't read."

"What?" Elizabeth said quite loudly in her shock. She covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry, Will. Did you just tell me that you can't read?"

Will nodded, embarrassed. He didn't catch Miss Swann's wide eyes searching his red face. "My mother always told me I hadn't any use for it."

"Well, that's nonsense," Elizabeth said with a matronly tone. "I'll teach you."

Will looked up at her finally. "You'd teach me?"

"Of course," she replied, keeping her tone even. "You're a bright boy; I imagine it shouldn't be a difficult task. Do you know your alphabet at least?"

"I do," Will said excitedly, "And, I know a few words. Just…not many."

"Well, that's a start."

Will wasn't sure how long they stayed up that night, but she had managed to teach him some basics. In the end, he'd muddled through the first chapter of the book she was reading. Much to his vexation, it was a very spirited pirate tale. Will hadn't imagined that Miss Swann would be so interested in pirates, the very people he despised. Regardless, they kept on it until the sun had almost come up – after that, Will couldn't remember anything until he awoke to Governor Swann's very displeased face looking down at him.

Will looked around sleepily and realized that he was still in Governor Swann's study. He would have stood up and apologized, but there was a heavy, rather warm weight on his chest. He looked down and his mouth fell open. It appeared that Miss Swann had fallen asleep on him, the book still clutched in her slack hands.

"Elizabeth," her father rumbled. Will swallowed hard. Elizabeth blinked her eyes sleepily and looked up at her father, stretching lazily across Will and yawning widely.

"Good morning, Father," she mumbled. Then, she looked around at the room remembering where she was. Finally, mouthing hanging open and eyes wide with shock, she looked at Will.

"Will!" she exclaimed before jumping off of him. Her cheeks flared a brilliant shade of red, but not nearly as red as Will's.

"We," Elizabeth started, pausing to try to sort out her explanation. "We were reading," she said, lamely.

"Indeed," her father said sternly. "Mr. Turner, I wonder if you might give my daughter and me a moment alone."

Will stood up very straight. "Of course," he said worriedly before all but running from the room.

He leaned against the wall outside and breathed in ragged breaths. How could he have been so foolish? He had been graciously taken in by the Governor and then was found sleeping in his study with his daughter! Will shuddered and prepared himself to be thrown into the streets. He was about to go to his room when he unexpectedly overheard the conversation from within.

"Have a sense of propriety, Elizabeth!" Governor Swann bellowed, "You're too old now to be sneaking around in the middle of the night and falling asleep on boys you hardly know!"

"But," Elizabeth protested, "We were only reading! Will's a _friend_, Father!"

"Yes, well, Elizabeth you are at an age where friends become…," he paused then as though about to finish the sentence but thinking the better of it. "That'll be all, Elizabeth. I expect you to behave more sensibly in the future."

"But," Elizabeth started again.

"No buts!" her father roared. "Now, it's time for you lessons. I shall have to find Mr. Turner a suitable home sooner than anticipated, it would seem."

Will jumped as Elizabeth emerged from the study. He had expected that perhaps his lovely angel would be upset after having such a row, but instead he found a dark fire burning in her eyes. She glanced at Will, closing the door behind her and stood up very straight. Then, unexpectedly, she rose on the tips of her toes to whisper into Will's ear.

"We'll read again tonight."

There was nothing special about those words, nothing special about the way she turned from him without glancing back and stormed off to her room, and yet these things enthralled Will. The way she had said the words, her hot breath tickling the tiny hairs in his ear, sent a thrill to his soul. Her quiet fire was so apparent in the way she moved; her skirts seemed to follow her in a wave of fury. It was then, during this secret, shared moment, that Will realized a very important fact: his angel had a bit of the devil in her.


	3. A Respectable Opportunity

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise or any of the characters associated with the films. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Huh. I don't know how I feel about this chapter at all. -shrugs-_

"Good news, my boy! Good news!" Governor Swann said as he came through the door, clapping Will on the shoulder.

Will's heart dropped a bit for he knew that good news revolving around him would lead to his leaving the manor, and more importantly him leaving Miss Swann.

"Oh?" Will asked quietly. Governor Swann motioned for Will to join him in his study. Will followed him reluctantly seeing as every time he went into that study, he was doing something he shouldn't be – spending late night reading time with Miss Swann.

"Sit, sit!" Governor Swann insisted. Will obliged. "I've been visiting in town and I've recently met the Browns."

Will remained resolutely silent, preparing himself for a fate of hard labour. He nodded slowly, a sort of fear creeping into his eyes. Governor Swann frowned slightly.

"Come, come, my boy! You should be happy!"

"Certainly, Governor Swann. I just wish to know what will be expected of me," Will responded respectfully.

Governor blinked at him in a flustered fashion. "Ah, yes of course! Mr. Brown is a blacksmith, conveniently looking for an apprentice. By yet another stroke of luck or misfortune, I suppose, depending on how you look upon it, he and his wife are barren. They would like a child of their own, Mr. Turner. This is an excellent opportunity for you."

Will stared at the Governor. It was an excellent opportunity to be considered for an apprenticeship and have a place to call home, but the memories of his own parents were still so close to the surface. A mother he lost to disease and a father he'd never known, possibly lost to him forever.

"I have a family, Governor Swann," Will said sharply, perhaps a little more sharply than he had intended.

Governor Swann frowned. "I have found you a more than adequate placing in a respectable home, and this is how you repay me?"

Will's eyes grew wide realizing the mistake of his words. Clinging to a family lost to him was pointless. "I'm sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect. I am very grateful for these opportunities. When shall I meet with the Browns?"

Governor Swann's face relaxed and he smiled slightly. "This afternoon, Mr. Turner."

Will nodded and forced a smile. Now, he had to find Elizabeth and tell her he was leaving. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be found. Will gave up on searching the manor and decided to turn his attentions to the grounds of the manor. The grounds were wide and expansive, but very open. He should be able to find her easily. He was not wrong. Elizabeth was curled up under a large tree with her back to him.

"Miss Swann," he called softly. The tiniest twitch of her head was all the notice he received that she had heard him. He jogged towards her, noting that she refused to turn to face him. He frowned. In the perfect two weeks he had spent on the manor, Miss Swann had always been glad to see him, eager almost. Perhaps the novelty of the ship wrecked boy had worn off.

"Miss Swann," he repeated as he stood beside her.

Elizabeth still refused to look at him. "Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" she hissed miserably.

"At least once more, Miss Swann."

"You say that every time," she replied wearily, still not looking at him.

Will smiled softly. "Perhaps I enjoy the question."

Elizabeth finally turned her eyes on him. She was angry, that much was clear, and for one heartbreaking moment Will thought that she was angry with him. She merely huffed in response to his statement. Suddenly, her eyes turned sad.

"Miss Swann?" Will said, kneeling down beside her. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes only seemed to grow even sadder. "You're leaving," she said flatly.

"Possibly," he said cautiously.

"Probably," she replied, staring straight ahead again. "I wish you weren't going."

"I will only be in town, Miss Swann," Will said in an attempt to comfort her. "I will always be in Port Royal so long as you are here."

Elizabeth turned her face towards his again and smiled. "When you say things like that, it makes me want to keep you here longer."

"My apologies, Miss Swann," Will said with a smile, a noticeable lack of sincerity behind his words. This made Elizabeth's smile deepen. Without warning, she threw her arms around Will's neck.

"I'll give you a present when you return from your meeting," she said before letting him go and running back to the manor.

Will watched her go with a heavy heart. The past two weeks had made the pair inseparable. Elizabeth had taught Will to read tolerably well enough to independently seek out his own books. She had also taught him proper table manners, a number of popular dances, and how to embroider; the latter of which Will was a very poor study. It would be horrible to be separated from her now, but it would also be the proper way of life here at Port Royal. As Governor Swann had so poignantly pointed out, they were at an age where friends often morph into _something else._ It would be best for him to leave before a serious attachment was made on Elizabeth's part. Her station was so much higher than his own. Will was not right for her – not for the lovely Miss Swann. Little did he know, that attachment had been formed the first day he washed up into her life.

Governor Swann took Will to town in his carriage, Will dressed in finery that he had never been able to afford in the past. He followed the Governor into the smithy, his eyes drinking in the dirt floor and hot forges. It wasn't until his gaze fell upon the small row of swords hanging on the far wall that Will realized this was the trade for him.

"Swords," he whispered, eliciting a small smile from Governor Swann.

Will had become quite obsessed with fencing and the art of swordplay. Governor Swann's library consisted of a number of books on the subject. While Elizabeth had poured over pirate lore, he had been immersed in the world of parries and attacks. He was determined to become the greatest swordsman that there ever was – he just wasn't quite sure _how_ he would accomplish this feat. If the Browns accepted him, he was one step closer to that goal. And, one step closer to protecting Miss Swann from all possible harm.

"Mr. Brown," Governor Swann said with flair, "May I present Mr. William Turner."

"Hello there," Mr. Brown said warmly. He was a kind looking man, more round than not.

"Hello, sir," Will responded.

Mrs. Brown came bustling in from the back. She was a lively woman with long black hair and wide blue eyes.

"Is this young William?" she asked brightly.

"Hello," Will said with a smile. He could get used to this woman. Used to eating his meals with her, used to coming home to her smile.

The following conversation was primarily led by Mr. Brown as he was obviously assessing Will's ability and interest in learning the art of blacksmithery. Will was more than eager to learn how to make swords, and more importantly learn how to use one. Mr. Brown had laughed heartily at this particular interest but also pointed out that a blacksmith does have to make more mundane articles such as horseshoes, picks, and axes. Will didn't mind having to learn how to make those as long as he could make swords.

"Well, Mr. Brown, it seems we have found a suitable arrangement for Mr. Turner," Governor Swann said happily.

"Of course!" Mrs. Brown interjected, "You're welcome to call our home your home, William."

Will smiled tentatively, remembering his original reason for coming from England. To find his father. But, he reminded himself, his father was more than likely lost to him. He had also made a personal vow to live for Miss Swann. How could he protect her if he chased after phantoms from his past? No, he would make a new life here in Port Royal where he could watch over Miss Swann and become respectable. For a boy of his standing, opportunities such as this do not come along often.

"We'll go back to the manor to collect your effects, William," Governor Swann said as he ushered Will from the smithy. "And, you can say goodbye to Elizabeth."

Governor Swann had sounded entirely too pleased about his last statement. The note of finality he'd added to the word 'goodbye' was not lost on Will. There was a good chance that he may never interact with Miss Swann again after this, but Will decided to stay strong. He may not be allowed to interact with her, but he would certainly find a way to protect her, even if she never knew about it.

They returned to the manor to find Elizabeth waiting at the door for them. One look at her father's pleased face and Will's hidden sadness, and she knew.

"You're leaving," she said with finality.

Will could only nod.

"Father, I must say goodbye to Will," she announced before reaching out and gripping Will by the hand. She pulled him back through the front door, ignoring the protests of her father. They ran and ran until they were as far away from the manor as the grounds would allow.

"Will," Elizabeth managed to say between breaths. "This is for you."

She handed him a book. It was very old, the binding threatening to come loose and release all the yellowed pages. Will read the title of the book on the cover.

"Utopia?" he said in wonder.

"Read it, Will," she said watching his face carefully. "You may think me mad for wishing to be a pirate, but read that book. Maybe you'll see then."

Will flipped through the pages curiously.

"I don't understand it all yet, but I will someday. I will," Elizabeth said determinedly.

Will looked at her. "I will read it for you, Miss Swann," he said solemnly.

Elizabeth's eyes flashed with something lingeringly dangerous. "You're still calling me Miss Swann!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air, "Read it for _you_, Will."

Will nodded, realizing that the book would certainly not be an easy read.

"Thank you, Miss Swann," he said quietly.

"I probably won't see you very much, Will. Father says I'm to go to balls and be introduced properly into society in a couple of years."

Will said nothing, merely watching her pretty face grow sad with the concept. Her eyes shot up to his face suddenly.

"Don't forget me, Will."

Will couldn't ignore the intensity in her words. "That would be impossible, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth nodded silently and straightened her back. "Goodbye, Mr. Turner," she whispered before running back to the manor. Will waited until she was far beyond hearing his words.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth."


	4. The Fencing Master

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise or any of the characters associated with the films. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation. 

Will didn't see Elizabeth again before he left the manor permanently. He thought that perhaps it was for the best anyway; if they saw each other again, they might never separate.

His first day with the Browns was an active one, filled with lessons from Mr. Brown and bustling interjections from Mrs. Brown. Will managed to produce a rather mangled-looking horseshoe on his first try at the forge. Once it was cooled, Mr. Brown hung it on the wall of the smithy as Will's first accomplishment. Every time Mr. Brown looked at it, he would laugh and pat Will on his back. Will became most determined to learn the art correctly. After all, Mr. Brown refused to teach him how to make a sword until he could master the basics.

Four weeks later, Will had made a number of successful, everyday items. While he was working away at the forge, roasting in the humid Caribbean air, Mr. Brown began to lay out the materials to make a sword.

"Will, a sword has been commissioned from the Fort," Mr. Brown said, still laying out the materials he needed. "You can watch, but don't expect to be a master sword maker in any short period of time."

Will stared at the materials Mr. Brown was laying out and took mental note of each and every one of them. Mr. Brown shook his head and turned towards the forge.

"There is not a great need for swords in Port Royal, Will," he said, heating the metal. "You won't have many chances to make them here."

Will nodded, but imagined one day filling the smithy with swords. He watched Brown work at the metal, drinking in every detail he could. He admitted that when Mr. Brown had finished, the sword was quite crude but Will was still so fascinated.

"I'm no swordsmith, Will," Mr. Brown said as he wiped his hands off. "Swords are often commissioned from England. It just happens that the sword was needed unexpectedly."

Will nodded. All he wanted was to try out the sword himself. Brown shook his head and pulled the boy out of the smithy and upstairs to their small home. Mr. Brown paused outside the doorway of their flat and listened in. Will could hear it, too: the voice of a man within the rooms beyond. Will immediately bristled, preparing for a fight. Even though he had been with the Browns only a short period of time, he had accepted them as his family. If someone was intending to hurt them, he wouldn't let it happen without a fight. Admittedly, Will was still quite small for his age having shot up in height but not filled out in mass. He wondered how he would fare in a fight.

Brown opened the door cautiously, also bristling for a fight. Will followed him inside with wide eyes. They heard the peeling laughter of Mrs. Brown and Will saw that Mr. Brown had physically relaxed.

"Molly," he called from the door.

Will heard the intelligible rumble of a male voice before Mrs. Brown came into the room in her lively manner. There was a bright, wide smile on her face. She took Mr. Brown's coat and then Will's before ushering them in.

"Edmund is here!" she exclaimed.

"Edmund?" Mr. Brown exclaimed and then let out a hearty laugh. He rushed into the next room. Will followed the pair slowly. Who was Edmund? When Will entered the room, he saw a tall, lean man with the same black hair and bright blue eyes as Mrs. Brown. He was considerably younger than the Browns, perhaps in his late twenties.

"This is my brother, Edmund," she said to Will, pulling him further into the room.

"Edmund, this is Will."

The man regarded Will with a small smile. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'perfect' and Will frowned. Perfect for what, exactly? Edmund turned back to Mrs. Brown.

"Molly! You didn't tell me!" he exclaimed, now circling Will who was left feeling rather confused as to what was happening.

"I'm sure I didn't know!" she exclaimed.

"Will," he said sharply. Will jumped at that particular pronunciation of his name. It was harsh and disciplinary. Edmund paused in front of him and Will looked up. Will may have grown quite a bit in height, but he was not done growing yet. Edmund was a fair bit taller than Will.

"Yes?" Will replied quietly, determined not to be afraid. He trusted the Browns, it was impossible for them to put him intentionally in harms way.

"I hear you have an interest in swords."

Will frowned a bit in confusion. "Yes," he answered cautiously.

"And, swordfighting?"

Will blinked at him and smiled slightly. He still wasn't sure what was going on, but it seemed beneficial to him. "Yes," he answered more definitively.

Edmund smiled widely. "Lucky for you, I'm considered somewhat of a master in England," he said. "How old are you?"

Will blinked at him. This was simply too good to be true. A slow smile stretched across his features. "Fourteen, sir."

"Perfect."

Mrs. Brown put her arm around Will's shoulders and brought him to the dinner table.

"Edmund will be here for a month. When you are done your daily lessons, you will study fencing with him," she said.

Will was seated now, and dinner started, but his tongue had only just caught up with the conversation.

"Everyday?" he asked abruptly. Edmund had a spoonful of soup in his mouth which he almost spat out for laughing.

"If you'd like," finally replied, wiping tears from his eyes from choking on his soup.

"I would," Will said brightly.

With each day, Will's skills in the smithy improved and Mr. Brown increased the complexity of items that he was to produce. In addition, everyday after dinner Will would go to lessons with Edmund in the smithy. Like most boys his age, Will was impatient to get to the more interesting aspects of the skill. And, like most skills, the basics must be learned first.

"The most important factor of fencing is your footwork, Will," Edmund insisted daily. "We won't move on to swordplay until you can prove to me that your footwork is proper."

As a result, Will practiced his footwork every spare minute he had. He would take fencing steps to the forge, lunge before bed, and fleche across the smithy if he needed something from the other side. Mr. Brown was often seen shaking his head at the boy.

Within three days, Edmund was satisfied with Will's footwork enough to allow him to handle a sword. He reminded Will that he should continue to practice his footwork with zeal for if he should lose that skill, he would lose any fight he'd ever have. Edmund gave Will a sword and asked him to show him how he thought one would fight with it. Will flailed the sword around aimlessly and in wide, open movements. He continued to do so until he caught sight of Edmund's face.

"No, Mr. Turner," he said sharply. "A fencer's movements must be concise and well-thought out. When you swing your arms so widely, you leave many open targets that your opponent will take advantage of."

Will watched him with a frustrated look. "And, always remember this, Will: they will take advantage of anything you give them. It's life or death. So, give them nothing to work with. You must be flawless in your attacks, scrupulous in your parries."

Edmund started Will off by teaching him the smallest details. How he should hold his sword, the exact angle he should hold it at, the exact distance he should keep the sword from his body, the exact spacing of his stance. It was tedious to learn the details, but also imperative. Should Will ever need to use this skill, it was the small details that would make him the better fighter than his opponent.

When the month was through, Will knew every parry and attack he would ever need to know. The only thing left for him to do was improve his skills over the years. It was well past sunset when Edmund had given Will his final lesson.

"Will, you should come with me to England. You could become a master yourself," Edmund said. "Your skill is formidable."

"Thank you, Edmund," Will said, "But, I mustn't leave Port Royal. I must stay here and become the greatest swordsman. There is someone I have to protect."

"Oh? And who is this, Will?" Edmund said with a sly smile, "Found a girl already, have you?"

Will ignored the burning of his cheeks and pressed onward. "I must protect Miss Swann."

The smile fell from Edmund's face. "Miss Swann? The Governor's daughter?" The look he gave Will now edged on pity. "You do realize that the only protection you will be able to offer her will be from afar?"

Will nodded, "As long as she's safe."

Edmund shook his head sadly, "Will, I hope you come to your senses some day. To love a woman of a higher station will only end in heartbreak."

"As long as she is happy," Will replied.

"You're far too solemn for your age," Edmund said softly.

Will thought about that for a moment. "I think that comes of losing both your parents and then nearly being killed by pirates on the Caribbean Sea."

Edmund laughed, hard, and slapped Will on the shoulder.

"You wouldn't be Will Turner if you weren't so bloody solemn," he called behind him as he headed up the stairs. Will stared after him frowning. He shrugged. It was just that he realized that there were things – _people_ – worth fighting for, worth protecting. He wasn't going to be able to protect anyone if he was too busy running around the streets and making mischief. Besides, he hadn't anything to offer Miss Swann except protection.

_AN: There is a serious lack of W/E interaction in this chapter, but I promise I shall make up for it next chapter. :D Also, sorry for all the fencing jargon...I fence myself, so I tend to lose myself in it. :S Love love._


	5. With Proper Stockings and All

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Ah, I like this chapter. I hope you do, too!! ;)_

The following year seemed to progress with unstoppable speed. While Will worked on perfecting his regular commissions, he also worked tirelessly to perfect the art of sword making. With each sword he produced, his skill increased. He was still far from mastering the techniques, but was happy with each small improvement. For example, the first time he'd managed to make a blade perfectly smooth, he's smiled non-stop for three hours.

His skills, however, were not the only aspect of his life that was changing. He had grown in this past year from a tall, skinny boy to a lithe, mildly muscular young man. He practiced tirelessly with the swords he made to perfect his swordplay, which sometimes was difficult given he had no sparring partner. Mr. Brown had helped him to make a dummy, forever poised in an attacking stance, to aid in his practice. Mrs. Brown clucked her tongue constantly at Will for 'wasting' his time indoors when he should be out meeting nice girls. Will always smiled a small and knowing grin before continuing with his footwork.

One night, following that same routine, Will came upstairs to their little flat and hung his coat on the wall. It was odd that Mrs. Brown had not greeted him at the door as was her custom. Will paused in the doorway, listening intently. He knew that Mr. Brown had gone to the pub with some of the tradesmen. There was a country dance tonight, reminiscent of the parties the locals often have. Will had little interest in the affair. He wandered slowly towards the sound of Mrs. Brown's humming, which to his great surprise, was in his bedroom.

"Mrs. Brown!" he said in mild shock, finding her laying out a suit on his bed.

"Will!" she said brightly, standing up suddenly and pulling him inside. "I've decided that you should go to the dance tonight."

Her smile was so wide and her face so excited that Will was forced to swallow his immediate protestation. "I wasn't planning on going," he said slowly, leaning back on her arm in an attempt to slow his inevitable progression towards the suit.

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Brown said, ignoring his statement and holding up the jacket against his chest. "Proper stockings and all, Will!"

Will smiled weakly and nodded. The last thing he wanted to do was go to a dance. Particularly a dance Miss Swann would not be attending. Mrs. Brown stood on her the tips of her toes and kissed Will's cheek.

"Well, get ready then!" she commanded before disappearing from the room, closing the door behind her. Will stared at the suit with genuine distaste. It was a proper suit in a fine, dove grey – with proper stockings and all. Will started to change from his grungy work clothing, pausing at his wash basin to wipe the soot from his hands and face. He sighed at his reflection. This evening was going to be truly tortuous.

When he finally emerged from his room, Mrs. Brown was waiting by the door. She came over and placed her hands on his cheeks, tears in her eyes.

"What a fine young man you make!"

Will smiled automatically. It was very difficult not to get caught up in her enthusiasm. Mrs. Brown straightened out his coat and gave him a once over.

"You're going to break hearts."

Will cringed and felt his ears burn. "I doubt it," he stuttered.

Mrs. Brown gave him a knowing smile. "The sun is setting, be off with you!"

Will sighed once again and reached for the door handle. "Good evening."

"Oh, I'll see you there!" she called behind him.

Will frowned. There would be no escaping and she would certainly force him to dance. He trudged down the stairs gloomily, his ears being assaulted by the exuberant notes of a fiddle outside. He peeked through the shop window, watching people walk to the town square. Will's shoulders slumped once more as his hand reached for the handle. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before stepping out onto the street.

Will started his steady descent down the street, staring at the group of people gathered ahead with silent fear. He had no interest in dancing and he was not prepared to recommend himself to strangers. A gaggle of giggling girls swept past him and his eye twitched. Girls. They terrified him in their complexity. Matters with Miss Swann had been so straight forward; her manners had been so easy. It wasn't that he regarded her in the same way he did boys; she just wasn't like other girls.

Will stopped in his tracks, intense fear filling his face as the group of girls halted and one approached him. Molly Baker. Ironically, she was the daughter of the town baker. She was drawing near him with giggling confidence and Will's mind froze over. He frantically tried to force it to work again, to think of some excuse for him to turn back to the smithy. She toyed with a strand of her long, blonde curls, smiling at him coyly.

"Good evening, Mr. Turner," she said, giving him a forced curtsy. The group of girls watched them with wide eyes and subdued giggles.

"Goo-, good evening, Miss Baker," he stuttered, resigned to a lack of an excuse. He bowed slightly and closed his eyes nervously as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Miss Baker glanced around the street and her smile widened.

"You're not going with anyone," she stated plainly. Will blinked at her. Her mannerism had suggested that she would have worded the statement as a question, but she did not. She looked up at him expectantly, batting her eyelashes. She was pretty, Will had to admit, but he had decided over a year ago that no one would do except Miss Swann. He'd never really noticed that Miss Baker had had any designs, but now when thought about it, she often stopped by the smithy and made idle chitchat or brought him baked snacks on his break.

"No," he said in a frightened squeak. He wished that he could be anywhere but here at this particular moment. He looked at the group of girls, whispering to each other as they watched and saw his way out. "I see you're going with your friends, Miss Baker."

Will smiled slightly as her face dropped suddenly and she spun on her heel. Evidently she had given her friends a look as they erupted into fits of giggles and scampered off down the street without her. Will's smile died abruptly. He was trapped.

"No," she said, turning back and smiling widely. "As you see, I'm not with them."

Will swallowed noisily and stared at her. "Well, I certainly can't allow you to walk in the streets alone, Miss Baker."

Miss Baker's face erupted into a stunning smile as Will offered her his arm. She gripped it fiercely and possessively as they began to walk to the dance. Will scarcely heard her words as she talked on endlessly about idle town gossip. He stared straight ahead, his body rigid with nerves. Miss Baker, noting his lack of attendance to her words, opted for a new strategy.

"It's such a pity that Miss Swann can't join us," she said sweetly, watching his face carefully.

Will turned to her at the mention of Miss Swann and then again faced forward, trying to keep his face emotionless.

"Well, it would be," Will paused, wondering if Miss Baker would take offence to the truth, "beneath her."

Miss Baker did not take offence, but instead tightened her vice-like grip on his arm. She even went so far as to lean her head on his arm. "Yes, well, mores the pity."

When they finally reached the party, Will was shocked to find how wild it all appeared. Dancing in the streets seemed somewhat savage. He had seen the locals have such parties and had envied their freedom, but for him to participate seemed bizarre. Miss Baker made some comment about wishing to speak with her friends, the same friends Will had seen abandon her in the street. Will breathed a sigh of relief and sought some dark corner to hide in until the dance was over. He had spotted an adequate place to cower and was well on his way there when he was yanked back by a strong grip.

"Well there, my boy," Mr. Brown said brightly. Will grimaced smelling the liquor on his breath.

"Mr. Brown," Will said, looking behind his master at the face of the other intoxicated tradesmen, "Mr. Smith, Mr. Edwards, Mr. Baker."

Mr. Baker smiled drunkenly, "I see you've brought my Molly. You treat her right, boy."

Will didn't like the tone in Mr. Baker's voice but nodded dumbly in blind fear. "Of course," he whispered.

"Now, look," he slurred, pointing back across from where Will had just been trying to escape. "She's looking for you. Likely wants to dance as young ladies do."

Will felt himself get shoved back in that direction forcefully, hearing the intoxicated laughter of the men behind him. He scowled as Miss Baker caught sight of him and waved brightly. He made his way back slowly.

"Miss Baker," he said slowly. He sighed deeply. "Would you care to dance?"

Molly was surrounded by her tittering friends, who of course whispered and giggled again. Miss Baker smiled broadly and accepted Will's hand.

"Why, I believe I would, Mr. Turner."

Will forced a smile and led her to the makeshift dance floor. The dance started and was luckily an older dance that Will actually knew, courtesy of Miss Swann. They started the movements, structured and agonizingly slow in the Caribbean heat. Somewhere along the way, Will became lost in the mindless routine of the dance and stepped back a bit too far. This should have been perfectly fine if the person in the adjacent line had not done exactly the same thing at that moment.

Will spun quickly and bowed, "My apologies," he muttered.

He raised his eyes slowly, taking in the young lady he had inadvertently bumped into. Her small form was clothed in a simple, but pretty, peasant's dress, a sun-bleached curl escaping her bonnet and resting upon her shoulder. Will's breath caught in his throat when his eyes met hers as she was mid-curtsy.

"Miss Swann," he breathed. Her dark eyes widened in surprise and she took her time dragging her eyes from his feet to the top of his head, which was several inches higher than she remembered it.

"Will," she said delightedly, a wide smile stretching across her face. It had been over a year since Will had last seen her and he hadn't thought it possible, but she had grown more beautiful in that time. Her skin had darkened from exposure to the bright, Carribbean sun and her hair had the tiniest touch of sun-kissed blonde highlights. She'd grown taller, as well. Will blushed a bit after acknowledging that she was beginning to grow in other places, too.

"It's been too long!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly. God, how he'd missed that smile!

Will couldn't help his smile, despite the fact that Miss Baker was glaring at the back of his head. "But, Miss Swann," he said solemnly, "What are you doing here?"

Elizabeth suddenly remembered that they were at the town dance and standing in the middle of the dance floor. She looked around frantically and pulled her bonnet down further. Gripping Will's hand, she strode off the dance floor and beyond the crowd. Finally, she stopped as they stood in the middle of the deserted street. She paused to catch her breath and glanced up at Will again.

"You look well," she said. Will regarded her with a smile.

"As do you, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Call me Elizabeth!"

Will only smiled.

"Must I ask you again?" she exclaimed, exasperated.

"At least once more, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth huffed out a breath. "Well, in answer to your previous question, Mr. Turner," she said pointedly, "I was enjoying myself at a country dance!"

"But is that entirely proper?"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him. "Not you, too! Father won't let me go to a ball until I turn fifteen, Will. It simply isn't fair! So, I…_commandeered…_ this outfit from one of the maids."

Will smiled at her words. Her interest in piracy had not wavered and Will found it amusingly charming.

"Anyway," she started, pausing with a shocked look on her face. "Did I steal you from your dance partner?"

Will looked at her confused and followed her gaze over his shoulder. Miss Baker was standing at the end of the street, staring at them fiercely. Will swallowed and turned back to Elizabeth, speechless. Elizabeth regarded him with an amused half-smile, which dropped abruptly when she noticed that Miss Baker was storming towards them determinedly.

"And, who is this?" she hissed pointing at Elizabeth. Will opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the movements of Miss Swann, who had moved to stand in front of him. She had pulled off her bonnet and was glaring at Miss Baker with a fire in her eyes.

"Miss Swann," Miss Baker said, surprised, the anger in her eyes fading for a moment, only to come back a hundred fold stronger. "I see."

Will tried to speak again, this time being cut off by Miss Swann's words. "Mr. Turner would you be so kind as to escort me home?" she asked, knowing that he would not refuse her. It wasn't in his nature and it had been exactly the same type of strategy that Miss Baker had employed earlier in the evening.

"Gladly," Will said with obvious relief.

Miss Baker narrowed her eyes at him and her mouth fell open in indignant shock. "Well, Mr. Turner," she said threateningly. "If you do so, don't expect me to be waiting for you!"

"My deepest apologies, Miss Baker," he said solemnly, "But, I am honour bound."

Miss Baker only huffed angrily and stormed back to the dance. He was certain that he had _thankfully_ fallen out of her favour and the favour of her friends, which would certainly bring him some peace. Elizabeth's shoulders slumped visibly.

"Now I shall never hear the end of this from my father," she sighed.

"You could have let it go, Miss Swann," Will said, "I could have made a story up and no one would have been the wiser."

Elizabeth smirked derisively. "And let Miss Baker take my Will Turner? Never!"

A light blush rose to Will's cheeks at her words. When Elizabeth looked up and saw his expression, a blush rose to her cheeks, as well.

"Did you really come with her?" she asked in an uncharacteristically meek voice.

Will's eyes searched hers for a moment and then he smiled lightly. "Not exactly," he replied, offering his arm to her. "She and her friends launched a full scale attack. I was bombarded by the," he paused, looking stricken and confused, "_giggling gaggle_."

Elizabeth laughed gaily and gripped his arm. Her laugh died off slowly as her fingers gently explored the newly developed muscles in Will's arm, defined even beneath his wool coat. She looked up at his face, noting the strong line of his jaw. It was at this exact moment that Elizabeth realized that the boy she had fallen asleep on only last year was becoming a man. They walked back to the manor in silence, Elizabeth not quite sure what to say and Will never having been one for words. Will insisted on walking her to the door and ensuring that she was inside safely.

The Governor was waiting at the door when they arrived with a stern expression on his face. He regarded Will with surprise.

"Mr. Turner," he said, not unkindly. "I see you've returned my daughter to me."

Elizabeth gripped Will's arm fiercely, eliciting a glance from him. She had a stare of steely resolve in those black eyes.

"Come now, Elizabeth. I believe we must have a talk…again," Governor Swann said, staring at her expectantly. "Thank you, Mr. Turner. I trust you can find your way back to town."

"Yes, sir," Will said quietly, watching Elizabeth leave his arm regretfully. "Good evening, Governor Swann. Miss Swann."

Elizabeth turned and gave him a sad, longing look and Governor Swann smiled forcedly. The door closed and Will began to make his way back off the grounds. He frowned at himself realizing that this encounter had only further indentured him to her. He sighed before smiling at the remembrance of her bright smile and golden curls. He was suddenly glad to have gone to the country dance.


	6. Unexpected Loss

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: This is a short, sad chapter and I apologize, but it had to be done. At least the last chapter was nice and long. ;)_

A little less than a year passed before Will saw Miss Swann again, and under far less jovial circumstances. Mrs. Brown unexpectedly passed away just three days after Will's sixteenth birthday. There had been no warning signs, no inkling of her being ill. Mr. Brown and Will had simply gone downstairs to work in the smithy and, having returned for dinner, found Mrs. Brown lying on the kitchen floor – dead. The doctor proclaimed it an unexpected heart stoppage.

Will, having already lost a mother, was both fully prepared and equally devastated. He had fit in so well with the Browns, Mrs. Brown's smile always bringing warmth to his heart, and now his world was – once again – shattered. He worked tirelessly to take care of the funeral arrangements as Mr. Brown turned, inevitably, to the bottle. There wasn't a person in Port Royal who didn't know and love Mrs. Brown. The funeral had drawn such a crowd that Will worried he hadn't been prepared enough to accommodate them all.

He stood silently beside Mr. Brown, who reeked of the remnants of rum, tears streaming shamelessly down his ruddy cheeks. Will refused to shed a tear – it was a promise he'd made to himself following his mother's death in London. Crying had never solved a problem in his life, or anyone else's for that matter. The sky opened up in the middle of the ceremony, the heavens showering its grief upon the attendants in a vicious downpour. Will remained perfectly still, even as others moved away to the wake. He watched the gravediggers lower her casket into the ground and still did not shed a tear.

He stood, the warm rain penetrating through layers of clothing so unnecessary in the Caribbean heat, and stared in silence. He had assumed that he was alone, standing in the rain, grieving silently and was a little shocked when his eyes came up and focused on another figure standing across the grave from him. She watched him with sorrowful dark eyes, her face the very picture of helpless sadness. Will almost didn't recognize her; she'd grown so much over the months. Her face was slowly losing the chubbiness of childhood, her figure filling out where it should and staying lean in between. She was so tiny and frail, so delicate and perfect all in black silk under a tiny black parasol, drenched through. His angel.

Her sad eyes searched his face only for a moment before her parasol fell from her hands and ran to him. She wrapped her tiny arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest, sobbing.

"Oh, Will! I'm so sorry," she cried, her voice muffled in his chest.

Will remained perfectly still, staring straight ahead. He was barely aware of her little arms around him. He could scarcely comprehend that Miss Swann, his perfect idol, had thrown herself into him. His apathetic mask melted slowly and his head tilted to the side as he raised his arms to wrap around her. Elizabeth raised her head to look at him, blinking back the rain. He looked down at her, his eyes so tender.

"Don't cry, Miss Swann," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Elizabeth stared up at him in mild shock. He was so calm, so serene, and yet she could see the pain lingering beneath it all.

"Why not? Why won't you?" she cried.

"It won't bring her back," he said quietly.

Elizabeth stared at him in astonishment. "Will, you have to let it out," she insisted.

He merely stared at her with tortured eyes and shook his head. She pushed off his chest and his arms fell, dangling, to his sides. "You have to," she said again, more strongly.

He looked at her again in powerless torment. "I can't."

A strange expression crossed her features and she pounded her fists into his chest half-heartedly. "You must!" she screamed, fresh tears replacing those that had already fallen, joining the rain streaming down her cheeks. "You cannot hold all your feelings in, Will! You'll never move forward!"

He stared at her, his face the very picture of unspoken suffering. She was a mirrored opposite to him; a fountain of raw, intense emotions to his cool surface of indifference. She was right, of course, but then again, so was he. His bottom lip quivered as he stared at her

"I…I just…," he started, feeling the hot sting of salted tears in the corners of his eyes, a stark contrast to the cool, fresh water of the rain. He felt his knees weaken as he looked into her eyes. She was the strength he needed right now; she was the rock to which he could cling. Will couldn't hold it up any longer. There was no one here to impress, no one here to hold back for – just Elizabeth Swann, the angel who'd brought him back to life, again.

He fell to his knees in the mud beside Mrs. Brown's grave and sobbed fully into Elizabeth's stomach. Her hands tangled through his wet hair and he clutched the material of her skirts fiercely, sobbing until his body ached. He didn't know when it had happened, but at some point she had also collapsed into the mud and held his head close to her chest, stroking it as he cried. As though the weather were controlled by Will's emotions, the rain cleared as his crying slowed.

The warmth of a pair of soft lips grazing his temple shocked him back to the current situation. With wide eyes, he gazed up into Miss Swann's face.

"Miss Swann I'm so so-," he started, standing up and offering his hand to her. Elizabeth held a finger to his lips, stopping his apology. She smiled softly.

"Do you feel better?" she asked.

Will offered her the beginnings of a smile. "A little," he admitted.

His eyes skimmed down to her skirts. "Miss Swann, your dress," he said pointedly upset.

Elizabeth looked down at her ruined gown. "I must've fallen," she said flippantly, shrugging.

Will smiled slightly. "Thank you," he whispered sincerely.

She hooked her arm in his and started to lead him towards the wake. "It was very good of you to catch me, Mr. Turner," she said loudly as they neared the pavilion.

Will glanced at her, confused. His face cleared suddenly as she winked subtly and motioned with her head to a group of people within earshot.

"As long your well, Miss Swann," he said forcedly.

Miss Swann detached from his arm and turned to face him. "Will, honestly, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

A smile started to form on his face and his mouth opened. Elizabeth leaned in, expecting to finally hear her name on his lips, but was disappointed. "At least once more, Miss Swann, as always."

Elizabeth sighed loudly before catching sight of her father.

"Mr. Turner, so sorry for your loss. She was a fine woman," Governor Swann said solemnly, patting Will on the shoulder. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Elizabeth's sodden, ruined gown. He led her away, but not without her casting one more look over her shoulder at Will.

"Elizabeth, what happened to your gown?" Will heard Governor Swann exclaim as they walked away.

"I slipped in the mud, father," she lied easily. Will smiled after his wicked angel.

He turned his attention to Mr. Brown, who was sobbing drunkenly in the corner, surrounded by many people all attempting to comfort him. If Will knew anything at all, it was that Mr. and Mrs. Brown had shared a true and strong bond of love. Things were certainly going to be different without her. Will made his way over to Mr. Brown.

"I haven't got anything now," Mr. Brown sobbed into his mug.

A woman that Will recognized as a maid from the Governor's mansion was rubbing his back. She caught sight of Will and smiled. "Nonsense! You have Will!"

Mr. Brown raised his head sadly and glanced at Will. He smiled weakly and Will returned the smile. "Aye. Come here, lad."

Will came over to sit with Mr. Brown and remained silent.

"What'll we do without her?" he sobbed. Will had no answer for this as he was asking the very same question himself.

"I don't know, Mr. Brown," Will replied truthfully.


	7. Private Paradise

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

Will wiped the sweat from his brow. It was one of those days where the air was so stagnant and thick with tropical humidity that even heading outside of the smithy brought no relief. There were people all around in the streets. He bowed politely to Miss Baker, but she pretended that she hadn't seen him. Will rolled his eyes and shrugged internally. He had never thought that it was possible to hold a grudge over a country dance for almost two years. It edged on the side of ridiculous, really. Will stepped back into the smithy only to be slapped in the face with a burst of obscene heat from the forge. He sighed miserably and looked out the door again. No one was going to be interested in ordering anything from the smithy today.

With a wary glance at the unconscious Mr. Brown, lounged on a chair with an empty bottle of rum nestled on his ever-growing belly, he made a decision. Will picked up the small wooden sign which read 'closed' and gently attached it to the door of the smithy. He slid past Mr. Brown silently, knowing that he wouldn't wake but so terrified of being caught with so great a desire to escape. It was only one day and the heat was simply tremendous. As Will closed the back door to the smithy, he remembered to breathe now that he was free. Looking up into the blue sky, Will smiled widely.

The path was before him. It was a path he had travelled many times before, whenever he had a spare moment to escape the dehabilitating heat of the smithy. He hummed a tuneless melody as he walked, picking up a stick and thoughtlessly parrying tree branches as he went. His destination was deep within the forest, close to the Blue Mountains and he could hear the bubbling of the spring as he approached. Will had never meant to find this place originally. He'd merely been exploring with Edmund one day and they'd come across a small pool of fresh water. Edmund had taken it upon himself to teach Will to swim. Ever since then, on days such as this, the only relief Will had was to go for a swim.

It was practically impossible to swim in the ocean; all the townspeople would be watching, scandalized. This was his private paradise. A place to escape the prying eyes of the public and be free, for once. Although he hated to admit it, Will felt a sort of exhilaration by sneaking off to this secret place. He paused when it came into view. The sight had always taken his breath away; the cool, crystal clear water surrounded by brightly coloured flaming poinsettias, orchids and hibiscus plants with the mountains barely visible through the breaks in the jungle. Sweat poured off his body and the heat pulsed within him.

Automatically, he pulled off his vest and tossed it on a nearby tree branch, reaching down to remove his stockings and shoes. He walked forward quickly, pulling his shirt free of his britches and whipping it over his head – and then he paused like a wild animal trying not to be noticed. His heart pounded – there was someone else here, someone with her skirts pulled up to her knees and her feet dangling in the cool water, someone staring at him in much the same way that he was staring at her. Her lips were parted in surprise and her wide brown eyes skimmed down slowly from his face to his bare chest, lingering there.

Blood rushed to his face and the words exited his mouth in a breathless murmur – he thought that perhaps he was hallucinating.

"Miss Swann!"

Her eyes jolted to his face immediately, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Will suddenly remembered that his chest was bare and he was likely disrupting her tender female sentiments. Hastily, he pulled his shirt back over his head and attempted to tuck it back into his breeches.

"Oh, no don't," Elizabeth said quickly.

Will paused and stared at her incredulously. Did she just tell him to stop dressing? This was certainly a hallucination. A quick blush rose to her cheeks and she looked away.

"I'm sorry, Miss Swann. You…I…you shouldn't have seen that," Will finished helplessly.

"No," she agreed, looking flustered, "I mean, yes. I mean…it's alright. Don't stop on my account."

Will smiled slightly. "I'm afraid I must. Propriety demands it."

Something dangerous flashed through her eyes. "Propriety? Hang propriety," she whispered miserably.

"What are you doing here, Miss Swann?" Will asked, inching forward slowly, trying his hardest not to look at her exposed legs. Oh, how the tiniest hint of her skin could set his mind ablaze!

"It's hot," she said plainly, looking away once more. "And, I come here to think."

"You do?" Will asked incredulously. She looked up at him and nodded. Elizabeth pulled at her skirts awkwardly, attempting to cover her knees without pulling her feet from the water. There was a moment of awkward silence and Will wondered if he should leave. He decided that it was simply out of the question. How could he leave a lady, _especially_ Miss Swann, alone in the jungle? He couldn't.

"Won't you sit?" she said finally, still averting her eyes from him. The problem wasn't that she didn't want him there, oh no, it was that whenever she looked at him, her eyes were drawn to the 'V' of exposed skin at his chest, where his shirt was undone. She knew she shouldn't look, but she also couldn't seem to help herself.

Will hesitated, sensing her discomfort with the situation. "Does your father know you're here?"

Elizabeth's eyes were on him in an instant, that flicker of danger present within them again. "No. Not unless you feel the need to tell him."

Will shook his head, barely, confused by her crisp tone. "It's just…," he started. Elizabeth interrupted him.

"Not up to the code of propriety?" she asked, icily.

"No," Will said quietly, finally deciding to sit next to her, dipping his feet in the cool water. "It's not very safe."

"Oh."

Elizabeth looked away, embarrassed by her quick temper. "I'm sorry, Will," she said at length. She sighed deeply. Will watched her face as she closed her eyes and her shoulders slumped. She opened them again and turned to him, looking a bit startled by his closeness. Will instantly began to inch away from her until she reached out and gripped his hand.

"No," she said, smiling weakly, "Don't go."

Will was frozen, the feeling of her soft skin against his dry hand shocking him to speechlessness. His eyes dropped down to her hand in surprise and Elizabeth finally realized that she was touching him. She drew her hand away quickly, as though she had been burned. They both looked away, staring at the water in an uncomfortable silence. The heat was still sweltering, and Will was sure that sitting this close to Miss Swann was not helping his body temperature at all.

"I'm turning fifteen tomorrow," Miss Swann said stoically. "Do you know what that means?"

Will turned to her and shook his head silently.

"It means," she continued, looking rather pained. "That I shall be introduced into society soon. It means I have to grow up."

Will wasn't sure what to say. He knew what would happen when she was introduced into society – a gentleman would court her and she would be lost to him forever. He looked away from her, trying to remind himself that he was never going to be good enough for her. Unfortunately, he was having a great deal of trouble convincing himself of this. Elizabeth's voice interrupted his thoughts with its soft lilt.

"It means…," she started, looking at him boldly. When he looked back at her, it seemed to disrupt her train of thought and she closed her mouth promptly. "Did you ever read _Utopia_?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I did," Will replied.

"And, what did you think of it?"

"I think, Miss Swann, with the structure of society as it is at present, achieving an Utopian culture would be impossible," Will said slowly.

He had read the book at an agonizingly slow pace after she'd given it to him, but it had certainly forced him to practice his reading skills. He had re-read it several times now, and with his the understanding of his own place in society, formed a number of opinions on the matter.

"There are rules that we must follow to keep us from falling into chaos," he continued softly. "Without these rules, we would be little better than savages…or pirates."

Elizabeth stared at him with a perplexed expression. "But, think of the freedom, Will. Think of the limitations that would no longer exist! Without the lines of society, people would be free to do as they please! Live as they want!"

"Miss Swann, I've seen what living without those _limitations_ leads to," he replied gravely, recalling the terror on the ship. "If you lose respect for rules and society, you can easily lose respect for life in general."

"I disagree," Elizabeth said stubbornly, twisting her body to face him full on, her bare, wet calf grazing his thigh. "I would rather make a difference by breaking a few laws than becoming some pretty accessory to a gentleman! I can't do anything!"

She paused, suddenly saddened by her realization. "I can't do what I want," she said, dragging her eyes up to his pointedly. Her eyes rested on his lips as she continued. "If I could do what I wanted, even once," she said, leaning in slightly. Will was mesmerized by the fire in her soul, by the brazen way she was leaning into him, by her lush lips and the way they moved as she spoke. "I'd give this life up for piracy."

Her words jolted him back to reality and he pulled his face back abruptly. "Do you know what you're saying, Miss Swann?" Will asked in a tone which clearly indicated that she _did not_ know what she was saying. "It's _treason_!"

Elizabeth pulled back as well and blinked at him, hurt in her eyes. "I thought you'd understand," she whispered.

"Understand?" Will whispered incredulously, "Miss Swann, I was almost killed by pirates. Why would I understand that?"

Elizabeth nodded suddenly, pulling her legs from the water and standing. "I'm sorry, Will," she said softly.

Will said nothing, but merely watched her with pained eyes. What was she thinking? Wishing to become a pirate? Her expression changed suddenly and she spoke in cool tones.

"Could you turn around please, Mr. Turner?"

Once again, Will was shocked into the realization that he was in the presence of Miss Swann, the lady and not the headstrong girl with an unhealthy appetite for piracy. There was a moment of quiet scuffling followed by an invitation to turn around. Will peered at Miss Swann, noting that she had put her shoes back on her feet.

"What were you doing?" he asked curiously, pulling his feet from the water as well.

"Finding a place to put my stockings," she replied matter-of-factly. Will blinked at her, comprehension flooding his features and blood rushing to his cheeks. He turned to put his own stockings and shoes on, as well as secure his shirt and vest.

"May I escort you home, Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth smiled softly and hooked her arm in his. "Yes, thank you Mr. Turner. I'll show you the path to the back of the manor's grounds. It's best I return that way."

The walk was not a short one, but it was an infinitely silent one. The path was also not an easy jaunt, and Will often found himself helping her climb over fallen trees and through webs of vines. They reached the Governor's grounds late in the evening, the red hot sun finally setting over the ocean.

"Good evening, Mr. Turner," Elizabeth said coolly. Will smiled sheepishly at her.

"Good evening…," he started, unable to finish for Elizabeth done something most unexpected. She'd risen on her toes and pressed her lips against his. Will was so shocked that he didn't know what to do or say. He could feel his temperature rise and could see the unshed tears in her eyes.

"Will Turner, I may never have the opportunity again," she said, her voice raw with emotion. "Goodbye," she whispered before whirling in a rush of lace and ribbon and running straight for the manor.

Will brought a rough hand to his lips, unable to believe that Miss Swann had actually kissed him. He started to walk back to the town along the edge of the forest, mindlessly following the path, lost in the remembered sensation of her lips pressed against his. He licked his lips, hoping for a taste of his angel. As the sun set on the horizon, Will laughed at himself. Irony was a cruel mistress, he thought as he realized that he was hotter now than he had been when he left the smithy.

_AN: First and foremost: "disrupting her tender female sentiments" – snort- Now, are you getting your W/E fix now? Good. This chapter took me forever to write, but I like it. I hope you do, too!! ;)_


	8. A Convenient Accident

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: A note on the last chapter. I actually took the time to look up the geography of Port Royal, so there are actually Blue Mountains. Just as in this chapter, there is a Fort Charles. It is the Fort furthest outside of Port Royal proper. I don't know why I'm bothering to be so accurate, the writer's certainly weren't considering the films are set in the mid-1700s and Port Royal sank in 1692…deedle dee. Enjoy this chapter…but know that I am not fond of it…_

Time barrelled on by and it was another two years before Will saw Miss Swann again – _really_ saw Miss Swann again. Certainly, he'd seen a glimpse as her carriage had gone by on the way to some social event or another, but he hadn't _seen_ her since the day at the pool. Will had all but given up on not forming any serious design on her; he couldn't help himself. She had kissed him, and no matter how insignificant that event may have become to Miss Swann, it was the apex of his short life. Even if she were to marry another, most notably Captain Norrington, who had been known to be forming his own serious design on her, there would be no other for Will. He admitted it to himself, even if he would not admit it to her; he was in love with her.

It didn't matter if she didn't return that love; it didn't matter that he _shouldn't_ be in love with her. Will Turner loved Elizabeth Swann and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Including him. So, he lost himself in his work and swordplay. He'd made dozens of perfect swords while Mr. Brown slept in his alcohol-induced comas for longer and longer each day. And, he'd practiced with each of these swords for a full three hours a day. Never again would he be caught off guard by a pirate, and he would certainly never let Miss Swann be put in danger, either. This was how Will Turner lived for two years. Without Mrs. Brown forcing him to go to balls, he went to none. Without her buying him new suits, he bought none. Without her making small talk, Will made none.

Needless to say, Will was a bit of a recluse. He'd lost touch with society. He was well-mannered enough with a wonderful sense of propriety, but he was a bit to _unpredictable_ for the townspeople. With Mr. Brown out of commission, no one monitored his movements. His mysterious nature caused quite a stir with the girls in the town, each one knowing that he was respectable enough to marry, but so shrouded in mystery their parents would most certainly protest the marriage. Will never noticed any of it. He smiled and bowed politely when he was in town, sometimes curious as to why whole groups of girls would stop him in the street. They still terrified him. The giggling had ceased, but they were still so…_predatory._

It was a particularly swelteringly hot day and Will considered abandoning the shop for the pool again. He had long since given up on ever seeing Elizabeth there again. She was too much of a lady now; there was simply no way she would ever want to meet a filthy blacksmith in a tiny pool of water by the mountains. Certainly, she must be busy at one of the Forts, sipping tea and making a smart match, as they called it.

The bell rang as the door was pushed open. Will hadn't heard it or else he would have done up his shirt, put on his vest, and made himself presentable. Instead, he moved from the forge, shirt sleeves rolled up, chest bare, hair wild, with a molten sword in his hand. He started pounding it with mad abandon, lean muscles rippling and sweat pouring from his head. He didn't notice the clean person in his dirty doorway, staring at the sight with wide eyes.

One may have mistaken their wideness for shock, but Elizabeth Swann was not shocked. At least not in the conventional sense. Propriety would indicate that she should have alerted the blacksmith of her presence by clearing her throat or gasping. She did neither. Instead, Miss Swann stood perfectly still and absolutely silent, as though observing a wild animal that would be easily startled. She smiled softly; in her mind, Will often behaved that way: wild and easily startled. It had been a long time since she'd seen him last and Mr. Turner was no longer a boy. However, Elizabeth Swann failed to recognize that she was no longer a girl, either.

Finally, he turned his head slightly, having caught a vision of white in his peripheral. It was shock that bathed his face, that made him stand head cocked, molten sword raised foolishly, dangerously.

"Miss Swann?" he breathed, scarcely believing that she was standing in his dirty smithy. He reminded himself that if this were a dream, he would not be dying from the heat. His eyes widened, if that was possible, when he realized that his attire was askew. He put the sword down hastily by the forge and rushed off to the back of the smithy. Elizabeth watched his movements with amused interest. She tried to see what he was doing, but it seemed his donkey had other plans. Betsy, as she had been named by Will, did not enjoy sharing her master with other females and she was going out of her way to block Elizabeth's view.

Will emerged, finally, a new man. His suit neatly put together, hair pulled back tightly, face soot free.

"I apologize, Miss Swann," Will started nervously. "I wasn't expecting anyone."

An amused smile stretched across her face. "Will, you do know that you run a shop? I'm surprised the…giggling gaggle… as you once called them, hasn't stormed the place."

Will was thankful for the darkness of the smithy for hiding his blush.

"What can I do for you, Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth's smile widened. She was having far too much fun teasing Will to stop now. "Today? Well, I believe you've already done it…"

Will started, his mouth falling open in blatant shock. Elizabeth stifled a giggle. Will was fascinated with her, the confidence she had always exuded had turned to pure cheek! If her father only knew… The smile that had been forming on his face fell instantly.

"Does your father know you're here?" he asked suddenly.

Elizabeth's smile also faded as she rolled her eyes at him. "Do you always need to inquire after him?" she asked without expecting an answer. "He does not know I am here, Mr. Turner. In fact, he thinks I am at Fort Charles."

Will raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"As you see, I am not."

Will still said nothing and merely looked more confused.

"My horse threw a shoe."

Realization dawned on Will. "Haven't you a driver?" he asked as he collected a horseshoe from a drawer. Elizabeth's eyes followed him until she noticed something on the wall. A mischievous smile spread across her face.

"Why not use that one?" she asked innocently, pointing at the horseshoe Mr. Brown had hung on the wall all those years ago. Will's eyes followed her hand. He turned to give her an exasperated look.

"Your driver?" he asked dryly. Elizabeth smiled widely.

"He's outside. I wanted to see you."

Will stared at her, stony-faced. "To see me, Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth smiled shyly and nodded. A small smile had started to form on Will's face and then the world seemed to disappear around them. She had wanted to see him. It was only Will and Elizabeth now. Everything seemed to make perfect sense to him at this moment. He was in love with her and she'd come here to see him. There was only one thing left to do. Will's eyes fell to her lips, which she seemed to push out in anticipation. He leaned his face in towards hers. He could smell her, sweet lilacs in a spring breeze. Oh, when was the last time he felt a spring breeze? They were so close now, he could feel her breath against his skin. The moment was ruined when the door to the smithy rustled and Will dropped the shoe in surprise. He had just enough time to recognize that someone was entering. He bent down to pick up the shoe, remembering to breathe. It was Miss Swann's driver, at long last.

"I have your shoe right here," Will said, smiling forcedly.

The driver looked from one red face to the other and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Let's change that shoe and get you on your way!" Will said a little too cheerfully, smiling awkwardly and pushing through the door.

Will changed the shoe quickly to avoid any suspicion. He also was careful not to look at Miss Swann. When he was finished, he stood back and the driver paid him.

"Good day, Miss Swann," he said softly as she watched him from the window of the carriage.

"Will you ever call me Elizabeth? Or, shall I have to ask you forever?"

"At least once more, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth pouted prettily. She also locked her eyes with his, making sure he felt the longing that she did.

"Some day," she whispered. With that, the carriage lurched forward and Miss Swann vanished from his line of sight. Will stood in the middle of the street watching the carriage depart, completely unaware of the many pairs of eyes upon him. He sighed and returned to the smithy, but found he could not concentrate on the tasks at hand. He hadn't seen her in so long. He'd nearly kissed her! Kissed Miss Swann! He really needed to keep his wits about him when he was around her. It was pity that he really didn't _want_ to.


	9. Dreamer's Rendezvous

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Yeesh. The demands!! Anyway, this has some top quality (I'm so modest!) fluff at the end of the chapter, so get through the boring stuff and embrace the plot! Then you get your fluffy reward at the end. _

_When did I get so pretentious? It's disgusting. Let me try again, overcompensation: THIS IS CRAP! SHEER CRAP! WITH SOME CRAPPY CRAP AT THE END! There. Now I'll let you figure out where I really stand on this subject for yourselves…_

_PS – I am sick and possibly delirious. I apologize for my insanity. LOVE LOVE!_

Will tried very hard not to think about Miss Swann over the following three years, although his mind often wandered to the kiss that never happened. It was all the same, it never _should _have happened, anyway. Will had it on good authority, from the local gossip mongering women in town, that Miss Swann had certainly been receiving a lot of attention from one Captain Norrington. Will remembered the Captain, a cold, rather calculating man; however, he was of high birth. Will rather wondered if Miss Swann would be happy with a man like Norrington. It was true that in recent times, Captain Norrington was regularly stationed in Port Royal, but there were several occasions where he would be required to be off at sea. Would Elizabeth be happy with a husband so oft absent? But then again, would she be happy married to a blacksmith?

Will sometimes humoured himself that he would make a better match for Miss Swann, that they would live a comfortable life like the Browns, before Mrs. Brown passed on. It was during these times that Will was forced to remind himself that the rebellious vixen of yesteryears was grown now, a lady of poise and standing. There was no way that Elizabeth could possibly lower herself to the life of a blacksmith's wife. These were the stark times that caused Will to lose himself in imaginary situations where he could rise up and make something of himself; someone worthy of her hand. He knew these delusions weren't helping him at all, but everyone was allowed to dream once in a while.

Dreams were all that he had lately. If he timed it right, on certain days, he might see her carriage pass through town on the way to Fort Charles. Three years was the longest he had gone without speaking with her and he wondered if she had forgotten him entirely. She certainly would should Captain Norrington propose to her any time soon. Ladies were wont to immerse themselves in weddings. He'd seen it with Miss Baker, newly made Mrs. Roberts. She had not long since given up on Will before Michael Roberts, the dressmaker's son, asked for her hand. And, then, Miss Baker did what any self-respecting young woman would do - she accepted him. It was, although Will hated the phrase, a smart match. And, it was at times like these, with Mr. Brown unconscious in the corner of the smithy and Will quite alone, that he was glad that Mrs. Brown wasn't around to chide him.

She would not have approved of his solitary personality and the way he would work for hours and hours, pounding away at sword after sword, just to keep his mind from straying towards Elizabeth Swann. He wondered how he had managed to let his affection towards her get so out of hand as of late. He also wondered what would become of him if she married Captain Norrington. Will refused to think of it as _when _she married Captain Norrington because anything could happen still; she could be abducted by pirates for all he knew! _This_ was a scenario that Will had already planned out so very well. Should a pirate ever threaten Miss Swann, Will Turner would kill him. He practiced his swordplay so very often and knew the rules of engagement to the letter. He would never allow anyone, least of all a pirate, to best him.

Will's rampant thoughts on how he would kill his imaginary pirate foe were interrupted by the sound of the bell. Will turned from the forge to see none other than Governor Swann at the door of the smithy. Quickly, he washed his hands in the basin and rolled down his sleeves.

"Governor Swann," he said with a smile.

"Ah, young Mr. Turner!" Governor Swann greeted Will with a wide smile. "You've grown!"

Will laughed lightly. "Indeed. What can I do for you?"

"Ah, yes," Governor Swann said, reaching into his pocket for a paper. "As I'm sure you are aware, Captain Norrington has done great things for Port Royal."

Will smiled woodenly. Great things, indeed. "Yes," he said quietly, fearing the worse. If the Governor should ask him to make a wedding gift, Will thought he might lose his mind right then and there.

"Well, the time has come, Mr. Turner," Governor Swann continued. Will looked at him with a frozen expression. "For a promotion!"

"Ah," Will said, smiling genuinely with relief.

"I should like to order one of your master's magnificent swords," Governor Swann said brightly, handing Will the paper. Will smiled at the Governor's unwitting slight. Everyone in town knew that it was Will who formed and fashioned the swords that were ordered from all around the Caribbean. The Governor, however, was less concerned with the dealings of the townsfolk and naturally assumed that Mr. Brown, the principal blacksmith, was the creator of these wonders. Will did not fault him for it, in fact, in a backwards way his statement was a compliment to Will, even if he didn't know it.

"This is the one I would like," Governor Swann said. Will looked at the sketch, clearly an advertisement of a sword manufacturer from London. Will often wondered what these large smithies, housing several blacksmiths, looked like. Perhaps one day he would be brave enough to travel across the sea to London once again.

"Ah," Will said smiling. "It is a fine sword, but might I make a few suggestions?"

Governor Swann looked surprised, but nodded cordially.

"You see," Will said, pointing at the sketch. "The handle of this sword is somewhat…lacking."

"Lacking?"

"Well, yes, Governor. I believe that the station of Commodore might deserve something a little finer than plain steel. And," Will continued, pointing to another area of the sketch, "The blade, as drawn, would not be balanced. If I may, sir, while keeping this sword in mind, design something a little grander?"

"Well, certainly, if Mr. Brown thinks that it is appropriate," Governor Swann agreed. "Where is your esteemed master?"

The Governor looked around, but Will had positioned himself directly in the line of sight of his drunken master.

"I'm afraid he's out at the moment," Will replied quickly.

"Ah, what a pity."

"And, when shall you expect this sword to be made, sir?"

"Yes. The ceremony will not be for another six months, Mr. Turner."

"Ah, excellent," Will said with a smile, folding the sketch up and slipping it into his pocket. "I am sure that we'll have the order ready in due time, Governor Swann."

Governor Swann straightened out his jacket in self-content. He turned to leave, twisting only to add one more statement. "Oh, and Mr. Turner, it hasn't been announced officially yet. I would appreciate your discretion on this matter."

"Of course, Governor Swann," Will replied with a bow.

Unfortunately, a visit from Governor Swann did not help Will to forget about Elizabeth. In fact, he was only driven to hope even more since the order had nothing to do with a 'smart match'. Will sat down and wrote notes on the sketch for additions to the sword. Gold filigree should be laid in the handle, the blade should be perfectly balanced, and the tang should certainly be the full width of the blade. Although Will was not well-acquainted with the future Commodore, the fact that Elizabeth was made him put forth his best effort. A fine man deserved a fine weapon; it was as simple as that.

Will to became lost in his new project easily, but there were a number of more pressing orders on hand. For example, if he didn't finish the thirteen sets of horseshoes for Mr. Biggar by morning, there would be hell to pay. Will heard a snort behind him as Mr. Brown rustled to wakefulness.

"It's been a hard day, William," he slurred. "I'm off to bed."

Will grimaced and nodded without turning around. It saddened him to think that such a good man had become so low. The least Will could do was keep up his good name. He worked late into the night and the moon was high above him when he locked up the smithy. At least the horseshoes were finished. Will stared at the moon in the blank sky, littered with pinpricks of crystalline light. He smiled as his eyes fell upon the reflection of the moon on the horizon. He walked towards the ocean with a purpose. Nights like these he considered gifts. Respectable people were certainly off to bed, and the not so respectable people weren't interested in a lonely blacksmith on the beach.

Will took the opportunity to release his aching feet from his restrictive shoes and remove his sweaty stockings. He braced himself for the sensation, sinking his feet into the cool sand and letting it roll over his skin. It was the absolute in relief. Sighing, he made his way to the shoreline, the softly undulating waves lapping gently at his ankles as his feet sunk further into the wet sand. As the tide came in, his feet were buried in the glorious warm sea water. Seafoam tickled his skin as it was inevitably pulled away. He closed his eyes and the first thing he saw in his mind was Elizabeth's smile. Broad and bright, with that dark twinkle in her eye. He smiled contentedly and opened his eyes.

Will turned his head along the shoreline, drinking in the silent night sky complimented by the peaceful lull of the waves. Far off in the distance he could see a figure in white, the sheer material of the person's clothing catching in the breeze and flowing towards the sea as they walked. Will narrowed his eyes and noted that it looked like a woman. But, what woman would be walking the beach alone this late at night? None that he knew of. Perhaps she was a spectre, a poor, lost soul looking for her final resting place. As the figure grew closer, Will realized who she was. She was none other than a figment of his imagination.

Will had often imagined meeting Elizabeth on one of his late night beach walks, but was always forced to remind himself that she was a lady. Ladies do not walk on the beach alone at midnight. Although he was content to believe that she was simply a figment of his imagination or some spectre forming itself into his deepest desire, he had to admit that he had never imagined meeting her in her dressing gown. This was a new scenario entirely. She stood before him, an angel in white with gold curls flowing along with the breeze.

"Will Turner," she said softly, amusement colouring her voice. Will smiled at his figment, what a precious angel she was.

"Miss Sw…," he started. She pressed a finger to his lips and gave him a severe look. His smile deepened.

"Call me Elizabeth." It wasn't a request. It was a demand, laced with her ever-present air of command. She pulled her hand away from his mouth and watched him expectantly.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, inhaling deeply that familiar scent of lilacs on a spring breeze. She smiled delicately and her face was so beautiful that he thought his heart might explode from all its pounding.

"Close your eyes," she whispered. Will did as he was bade, wondering how made he must look standing sideways in the tide with his eyes closed, conversing with no one. He didn't really care; he could live in this dream forever. He felt her hands, soft and cool, resting upon his rough elbows. Were she really here, really touching him, he would have apologized, but in his dreams no apologies were necessary. She leaned in and he could feel the heat radiating from her small frame. What a vivid dream he was having tonight!

He felt her lips press softly against his own, chastely kissing him. Soon afterwards, the unexpected flick of her tongue against his lips caused him to part them involuntarily. He thought that he must really look mad as his hands came up to rest upon the backs of her elbows. He leaned into her kiss, her tongue shyly probing his mouth, tasting him. His response to the shy action was electric and soon their tongues were dancing with one another feverishly. Would that this never ends! With a gasp, she pulled from him and whispered into his ear, her breath so warm and moist that he could almost believe she was real.

"I love you, Will."

Suddenly, the dream was gone with a rush of lilacs, her soft hands no longer on his arms. Will kept his eyes closed, lingering in the fantasy. When he opened them, he found himself expectedly alone on the beach. He smiled softly and looked down at his feet. He was about to continue walking along the shoreline when he saw two very distinct, small foot prints in the sand before him. His smile faded rapidly and his head swung around. He was most certainly alone, but the evidence before him showed that he hadn't always been. The tide rushed over his feet and devoured the footprints. Will licked his lips as he had done so many years ago. Had she really been there, or was his memory simply that precise? Could he remember her taste that well? Her smell?

Sadly, he would never know for sure.


	10. Bloody Gold Filigree!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Okay, so this is short, but I don't care. And, I realized that I lied – I said that we would be into COTBP by this chapter…but we're not. Oh well. Anyway, I don't like this which will likely mean that everyone else will…it seems to be a trend. But, even if you hate it, feel free to let me know because I agree!! ;)_

_Also, a small request: please don't threaten me in your reviews. One I can laugh off, but three for one chapter? It kind of gets creepy. You understand, right? I mean, if three people said they were going to hunt you down, you'd get creeped out, too, wouldn't you? Makes me want to curl up and never turn on my computer again…-shudders- Thanks.  
_

Six months passed with relative speed, and as it turned out, Will needed every spare moment to prepare Captain Norrington's sword. The handle was the most difficult part to make. The gold filigree was particularly finicky to lay into it. Too much heat and pressure could destroy the design and not enough would lead to an inability to secure the gold properly. Will wasn't sure just how much time he'd spent tweaking the handle, and had quite lost track of time in general while trying to perfect it. To his great surprise, while he was still fixing the smallest of details on the handle, Governor Swann's servant came through the door of the smithy.

"My master bids me to tell you that he will need the sword by next Tuesday afternoon," the man said solemnly.

"But, that's a week from now!" Will exclaimed.

The servant gave an apologetic shrug and waited patiently for Will's response. Will picked up the sword and gave it a cursory slash through the air. Everything seemed right with the sword itself. The blade was perfectly balanced and the tang was its full width. The real problem was the bloody gold filigree! Will's nose ticked in irritation. The filigree refused to lay right and Will knew it was the cursed humidity of the Caribbean that was causing him all this trouble. He frowned, knowing that he would be forced to take his work outside in order to finish the sword in time, and at night no less, when the humidity would be at least tolerable. The real problem was _where _would he be able to do this work?

He sighed irritably. "Inform your master that I shall have the sword in his hands next Tuesday morning."

Governor Swann's servant bowed and exited the smithy, leaving Will staring at the sword in frustration. Luckily, Mr. McNaughton came in to request a sythe which was a welcome distraction for Will.

When nightfall came, Will gathered up the sword and the materials he would need for laying the gold filigree, and headed out the back door of the smithy. He climbed up a nearby hill and set up on top of a cliff. The view from here would have been spectacular had there actually been any light to reflect off of the never ending ocean. Instead all Will could see was the moon reflecting against a black sea. Will sat crossed legged and started a fire, laying a piece of wood against his lap and resting the sword upon it. He was so intent in his detailing that he scarcely noticed when the sun had risen.

It was early, so very early, in the morning and Will gently turned the sword in his hand, admiring the detailing of the handle from all angles. He smiled brightly at his work. He had been lucky for it had not rained the whole of the night and the humidity had been low enough for him to lay the gold properly. When his eyes skimmed the horizon, he saw that rain was certainly coming. Will packed up his items quickly, placing the sword inside the box he had fashioned and subsequently locking it nimbly. He turned rapidly and nearly walked into two ladies making their way up the cliff.

"I beg your pardon," he slurred rapidly while bowing. He was so tired he nearly tripped over his own feet in doing so.

"Will?" an amused voice questioned. Will raised his eyes to meet those of Miss Swann.

"Miss Swann," he said with a hint of wonder, "Good morning."

Will caught sight of the other lady, who was one of Elizabeth's maids, Estrella. "Good morning, Miss Estrella."

Before Estrella had a chance to answer him, Elizabeth interjected. "Well, that's simply not fair!"

"I'm sorry?" Will asked, genuinely confused.

"You'll call Estrella 'Miss Estrella' but you won't call me Elizabeth!"

Will cracked a small smile at Elizabeth's outrage. "Estrella and I have had the good fortune to take lessons together in town, have we not Estrella?"

Estrella again opened her mouth to speak only to be cut off once more by Miss Swann. "And, I had the good fortune to save your life! How many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

The smile itched at the corners of his mouth. "At least once more, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth huffed and Estrella looked from her to Will and back again. A sly smile spread across her face as she finally got a word in while Elizabeth was busy pretending to be affronted.

"What brings you out here this early, Mr. Turner," Estrella asked quickly.

Will nodded. "I'm afraid I lost track of the time. I was working on an order, ironically placed by your father, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth's head turned and curiosity flushed her features. "Oh? What is it? Who is it for?"

"I'm afraid I've been sworn to secrecy," Will said with a smirk.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him and huffed again, once more pretending not to care.

"What, may I ask, brings you ladies out here this early in the morning?"

Elizabeth's mouth twitched as though she were debating telling him why she was there. Estrella's sly smile widened.

"Miss Swann saw a fire up here last night and she was curious," Estrella started. Elizabeth turned, her mouth hanging open in indignation.

"Estrella!"

"I imagine she reckoned there'd be pirates here," Estrella added before Elizabeth had the chance to stop her.

Will frowned. "Pirates? Miss Swann, I hope you realize that they're a desolate lot," he said quietly, stoically.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes dramatically. "That they are, Mr. Turner," she said coldly. "I am reminded daily by both my father and Captain Norrington."

Will's face darkened at her words. "Daily?"

Elizabeth's face fell blank for a moment, as though she had only just realized what she had said. "Well…I mean…by one or the other," she finished lamely.

Will broke eye contact and stared at the ground, nodding in silence. "Well, you should take heed of their words, Miss Swann," Will said softly, recovering with a half-smile. His eyes met hers and for a moment Estrella seemed to disappear.

"You look tired, Will," Elizabeth said, her eyes warm and searching, all false anger forgotten.

"I am, Miss Swann," he said with a wry smile.

The moment was abruptly ended by Estrella's voice. "We should return to the manor, Miss Swann. Your father will be awake soon."

Elizabeth blinked rapidly.

"Yes," she said automatically.

Her eyes scanned Will's once more. "Take care, Will."

"And you as well, Miss Swann."

She smiled slightly, longingly, before returning down the hill with Estrella. Will watched them depart and stared at the ground long after they had left. At long last, he returned to the smithy. Mr. Brown had inevitably opened the smithy for business and then passed out in the corner. Will sighed, at least he could still do that. Quietly, Will turned the sign and headed up the stairs to catch some well-deserved sleep.

However, Will found that sleep would not come easily as his mind raced with what Elizabeth had said: _I am reminded daily by both my father and Captain Norrington._ Captain Norrington. What a lucky man to be able to speak with Elizabeth on a near daily basis. It had been over three and a half years since he had last spoken with Miss Swann. Internally, Will berated himself for only being able to make inane, shallow conversation with Miss Swann. He wished that he could hold regular, interesting conversations with her. But, as the saying goes: if wishes were horses... Will turned onto his side and decided to lose himself in simply remembering her smile and the way she had commented on his tiredness. A small smile played on his lips and he fell into a deep sleep, haunted by tender dreams of hands touching and lips meeting, somewhere…anywhere.


	11. A Poorly Made Sconce and a Tiny Waist

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: So, we've made it to COTBP. Are you excited? I admit the dialogue will be scarily familiar…hehe. I have made myself laugh with a couple of lines in this chapter. I hope they make you laugh as well. ;)_

Will had carefully placed the completed sword, gold filigree and all, in its case after polishing it meticulously. He decided to walk to the Swann Manor, feeling more than a little nervous about the possibility, however slight, that he might see Miss Swann. Will knew that the ceremony was this afternoon and he had no doubt that Miss Swann would be in attendance. The concentration of gossip throughout the town was generally centered on the near inevitable marriage of Captain Norrington to Miss Swann. Will tried not to think about it as the idea made him quite irrationally angry with his own situation. He sighed.

The humidity was stifling and even his well-conditioned lungs found difficulty drawing in an even breath. Sweat trickled uncomfortably down the back of his neck and suddenly he regretted wearing this heavy brown suit. Sadly, it was the best suit he owned. It was at times like this when he really missed Mrs. Brown. The walk to the manor was a long one and by the time he'd left the confines of the town proper, he wondered if he would make it in time. He quickened his pace, wishing he had more time to simply stroll. The weather was perfect, regardless of the uncomfortable humidity.

Sweat was practically oozing out of every pore by the time her reached the door to the manner. Will pulled the bell quickly, straightening out his suit as he did so. It had been so very long since he'd been inside the manor, but he was happy to see that the grounds were still as beautiful as they had always been. The butler answered the door, a flicker of recognition flashing through his features.

"Master Turner!" he exclaimed with a smile. Will returned the smile. Oh, how he and Elizabeth had tormented the poor man! Will had, on more than one occasion when coerced by Elizabeth, taken the man's coat and played butler in the garden while Elizabeth read to him. He stifled a chuckle at the memory of oversized sleeves and tails flopping around with his overzealous bows.

"Mister Forsythe," Will replied fondly with a slight bow.

"I'll go get the Governor."

"Thank you," Will said, stepping into the familiar landing. Nothing had really changed in terms of decorum in the manor. Will smiled nostalgically; he could almost see his younger self being chased through the hallway, or reading in Governor Swann's study. The memory of his first night in the manor was given new meaning when he thought about how Miss Swann had fallen asleep on him. Would that she fall asleep on him now! The thought brought a telltale heat to his ears and Will looked around for something, anything, to distract him from the fantasy.

His eyes fell immediately to the sconce on the wall. It was fascinatingly dull and obscenely ornate. Will actually hated it; he always had. His hatred had increased now as he was well aware of how sconces were made. He reached up and touched it, curious as to its composition. Just as soon as his fingers closed around the closest arm, it broke off with a loud clank. Will's heart sped rapidly. His relationship with Governor Swann was tentative at best; he hardly wanted to be the one to tell him his sconce was poorly made. His eyes found a brass umbrella stand and he dropped the arm into it without another thought. Just in time, as well, for he heard Governor Swann's voice behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Turner. Good to see you again!"

Will smiled in silent relief.

"Good day, sir. I have your order," Will replied, placing the case on the table. He opened the case easily and pulled the sword out. Governor Swann reached out and took the sword from Will's hands, unsheathing it in the process.

"Well," he said with an evident loss for words. It was clear to Will that Governor Swann had no idea what he was looking at.

"The blade is folded steel. That's gold filigree laid into the handle," Will said with fervour. In his mind he recalled how difficult it had been to lay that bloody gold filigree. "If I may," he continued, holding out his hand for the sword.

Will balanced the sword on his hand to show off its perfection properly. "Perfectly balanced," he says lovingly, staring at the sword. This was surely the best sword he'd ever made; his masterpiece. He lived and died by this sword. Will looked up to Governor Swann wistfully.

"The tang is nearly the full width of the blade."

He flipped the sword expertly and presented it to the Governor. Will smiled at the Governor's surprised face and wondered if he still thought that Mr. Brown made the swords in the smithy.

"Impressive. Very Impressive. Ah, Commodore Norrington is going to be very pleased with this. Do pass my compliments to your Master, hmm?"

Will smirked to himself. Apparently he did. Still, he smiled brightly at the Governor, taking the compliment personally.

"I shall," he said graciously, "A craftsman is always pleased to hear that his work is appreciated."

For once, Will's mind was not fully focussed on one Elizabeth Swann. However, this state of distracted presence was quickly altered with the words currently exiting Governor Swann's mouth.

"Oh, Elizabeth! You look absolutely stunning!"

Will's eyes fell upon the lady slowly descending the staircase. Stunning was not an accurate description. No, it was not deserved at all. Now, more than ever, Will was convinced that Elizabeth Swann was a being directly descended from heaven. There she was, walking down gently as though each step were a cloud that might disappear beneath her feet and lead her straight to Earth.

Elizabeth looked up, following her father's voice. She paused on the stair, her eyes having fallen upon Will. Suddenly, her step became heavier and quicker and she rushed down the rest of the stairs.

"Will!" she exclaimed as she came down the stairs.

Will was stricken speechless. The dress she was wearing was clearly new and Will regarded it curiously. He felt for a moment that his eyes were playing tricks on him. If it was even possible, Miss Swann seemed even slimmer. Her waist was about half of what it had been just a week ago. Was she unwell? He looked at her face in wonder. She did not appear unwell; her face was a pleasant golden brown, her eyes were as bright as ever and her smile as wide. She looked too perfect, simply too…_utopian_.

He glanced at her figure once more; it was moulded into perfection so curiously. The dress must be made of some sort of heavenly material, designed solely to perfect the ideal womanly figure and drive men mad. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Blood was pounding away at his ears as he stared at her, speechless. She approached him as though they were still young children, as though his being in her home once more had negated all those years apart.

"It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed as she rushed past her father. "I had a dream about you last night!"

At first Will thought that the blood pounding in his ears had influenced his hearing. Had Miss Swann actually just told him that she had a dream about him? _About him?_ His mouth echoed his incredulous thoughts.

"About me?"

Had he been in a more sensible mood he would have seen the shocked expression on Governor Swann's face. But, he was not in a sensible mood and the only thing that mattered to him were the words that were about to come out of Miss Swann's delicate, little mouth.

"Yes, well, is that entirely proper for you to…?" Governor Swann asked quietly. Will watched in fascination as Elizabeth shot one glance at her father before promptly ignoring him.

"About the day we met. Do you remember?"

"How could I forget, Miss Swann?" Will asks breathlessly. It had been terrifying and life-threatening yet, wonderful and life-altering, all at once. It was quite impossible for him to ever forget that day. Will recognized the glint in Elizabeth's eye now, she was about to ask a question that she asked just about every time they were together.

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

Will smiled for the question had become an old friend of his now. It was like his own personal joke with himself, for in all his fantasies the word 'Elizabeth' fell from his lips often.

"At least once more, Miss Swann. As always."

"There. See?" Governor Swann said sharply to Elizabeth, as though this had been the topic of some conversation in the past. "At least the boy has a sense of propriety."

Elizabeth's eyes darkened at the mention of the word 'propriety' and immediately Will seemed to know that this would be the last time he would ever call her 'Miss Swann'. He wasn't quite sure why he felt that way, or what that feeling actually meant, but it was caused by the look in her eye. She looked away from Will, her face overcome by some indefinable emotion.

"Now, we really must be going. There you are," Governor Swann said to Elizabeth as he handed her a parasol.

Elizabeth turned her eyes to Will again, a thin layer of ice shielding their brightness. "Good day, Mr. Turner," she said, her voice was crisp and his name was over enunciated. Governor Swann was already at the door, calling out behind him.

"Come along!"

Elizabeth followed him with her head high, her tiny waist accentuated against the stark brightness of the Caribbean sunlight on the grounds.

"Good day," Will called after them, following in a rather bereft manner. He waited until she was halfway into the carriage, her dark eyes resting upon him both sadly and angrily. "Elizabeth."

Will stepped off the porch of the Swann Manor, staring after the carriage that carried Elizabeth away from him. An icy fear crept into his heart. Today was Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony. Elizabeth was a goddess in brocade and lace. And, to top it all off, he had been hit by the strange sense that this would be the last time he called Elizabeth by the name of 'Miss Swann'. His heart pounded rapidly as he walked numbly back to town. He looked up into the bright sky noting that it was the perfect day for a newly appointed Commodore to propose to the woman he'd been courting. Had they been courting? Will didn't really know for sure. After all, although gossip may have been an excellent source of entertainment, it was not always accurate. Silently, with the town now in view, Will made a plea for a divine intervention. _Please, please give me a chance. One chance. Please._


	12. Of Gossip and Pirates

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Sorry everyone. I had the flu and it really knocked the crap out of me (literally and figuratively, ha!). Since then, I just haven't been able to write anything at all. I finally had my inspiration for this chapter. I'm not really keen on going through every single scene in the movies, so as soon as they leave Port Royal, I imagine I shall write less scenes that are recognizable. Anyway, I feel this turned out better than I felt it was going to… Thanks unacymbal and lionessrampant84 for harassing me daily. :P I finally wrote something! Alright without further adieu:_

The day was far too crisp for Will to feel inclined to rush back to the smithy. His pace was almost lazy in its slowness. He allowed himself to take in every sight along the way, to imagine that he was walking with Miss Swann in her extraordinary gown. Smiling wistfully as he passed the dress shop, Will noticed a group of soldiers running through the streets. There was a group of women gathered in front of the bakery doing what they did best: gossiping. Will shrugged to himself and continued onward to the smithy. It was the conversation of the women that gave him cause to halt.

"Who was it, then?"

"I think it was that Miss Swann."

"She's more trouble than she's worth, I'd say."

The last voice was quite familiar to Will, belonging to the former Miss Baker. Her distaste for Miss Swann had been developing exponentially ever since the incident of the country ball.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Roberts," Will said softly, mentally noting the blush that sprang to the lady's cheeks. Was it shame that coloured her fair skin? Or, did she still fancy him after all these years? Will didn't care, but he did care about the information that she harboured regarding Miss Swann. "What's going on?"

Mrs. Roberts smirked readily, as though the thought of informing Will of her gossip gave her the greatest pleasure in the world. Given the content of her gossip, that was likely the case.

"Well," she started smugly. "That Miss Swann went and fell from the battlement of Fort Charles this afternoon."

Will's face must have paled visibly for Mrs. Roberts' smile grew wider.

"What?" Will breathed.

"Fell right off!" A woman repeated. Will turned to her numbly and recognized her as Mrs. Stevens, the butcher's wife. Will struggled to ask the next dreaded question but was immediately cut off by Mrs. Roberts.

"Missed the rocks somehow. Knowing that woman, they probably moved out of the way for her," she hissed with some disdain, as though Miss Swann missing the rocks was the tragedy. "And, then what do you think?"

Will had only just remembered to breathe upon learning that Miss Swann had not met a dreadful end; he could only shake his head helplessly.

"A _pirate_ saved her!"

"A pirate?" Will exclaimed. "You must be wrong. Pirates don't save people."

"Oh, don't you worry, Mr. Turner!" Mrs. Stevens interjected, "He showed his true colours!"

"Held her hostage, he did! Just when she was trying to save him from the gallows!" a man added. Will looked up at him. He hadn't noticed the he'd joined them. From the looks of him, he was a boatswain from the Royal Navy.

"Was she harmed?" Will asked automatically. He ignored Mrs. Roberts' snigger.

"No, sir. The pirate made a run for it, he did."

Will nodded and stared at the man. "I'm sorry but, who are you?"

Mrs. Roberts interjected once again. "This is my cousin, Reginald. He's just joined the navy. Isn't he brave?"

Will nodded politely but continued to stare at the man as he spoke. "Has the pirate been apprehended?"

"No, sir. But the Navy is on it! Should be caught any time now!"

"And you're doing a wonderful job in assisting them," Will replied softly.

Reginald seemed to deflate and the bright faces of the ladies all turned to scowls. Will sensed that he had once again fallen from the good graces of Mrs. Roberts. He bowed to leave, simply glad with the information that Elizabeth had escaped a fall and a pirate unscathed. As he turned to go, he heard Mrs. Roberts muttering behind him.

"That Will Turner! Giving himself airs just like that Miss Swann. If you ask me, they deserve each other!"

Will smiled to himself, only wishing that he deserved Elizabeth Swann as much as Mrs. Roberts insisted. He sighed loudly as he reached the smithy. Once he was safely inside the building, he pulled his heavy wool jacket off and placed it on a table gently. His quick eye caught sight of Betsy trudging along on her circular path. Will frowned, wondering what on earth could have spooked her. However, it wouldn't have been the first time that Mr. Brown had shouted in his sleep. Will glanced at his foster father and smiled.

"Right where I left you," he said fondly. Will turned and noticed the hammer was not where he had left it.

"Not where I left you," he vocalized.

It was then that he noticed the hat. It was a ratty, leather tricorn that had clearly seen better days. He reached for it only to have his hand slapped with the broad side of a rather weathered sword. Will's eyes flew up to meet those of his attacker. The man before him was ever so slightly shorter and about ten or more years older than him. His hair was black as pitch and tangled into matted ropes which Will had sometimes seen as the fashion of some locals. The man's eyes were a bright, almost dangerous brown rimmed crudely with kohl. His attire was what could only be described as completely thrown together and mismatched. Every fibre in Will's body screamed the word _pirate_.

"You're the one they're hunting! The _pirate_!" Will spat the word hatefully and glared at the man, who was suddenly frowning.

"You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?"

The entire time the pirate was speaking Will was assessing his situation and determining the best way for him to get his hand on a sword.

"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," Will spat, still desperately seeking a sword.

"Ah, well," the pirated said lightly, "then it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record. So, if you'll excuse me…"

With that, he turned from Will which was his first mistake. Will grabbed the nearest sword he could find and prevented the pirate from going any further.

"Do you think it wise, boy - crossing blades with a pirate?"

Will weighed it out carefully in his mind before speaking. Was it wise? Probably not. Was it necessary? Absolutely. The pirate had been closer to Elizabeth than Will liked any man to be and then had used her as a hostage.

"You threatened Miss Swann," he spat indignantly, sword poised for attack.

The pirate smirked. "Only a little," he said softly, dragging his blade up and down the side of Will's sword. It was enough of a goad to force Will into action. They danced up and down the imaginary piste, swords clanging madly. It had been ages since Will had had an opponent. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. How often had he imagined this exact scenario? How often had he wished to come to Miss Swann's aid? How many times had he begged to have his father's revenge? And, here and now, his wishes were answered in the form of this rag-tag pirate. Luckily for Will, the pirate was a decent swordsman – it made for a more interesting fight. Will smiled to himself for however good this pirate might be, he was not as well-trained as Will. In moments, the rust would be completely shaken off. In seconds, he would know the pirate's game and then all would be lost. The pirate commented on his footwork, of which Will was absolutely certain of its perfection.

It only took a millisecond for Will to realize that the pirate was trying to outsmart him as he ran for the door. The sword flew from his hand expertly, pinning the door shut. Will smirked to himself as the pirate struggled with the blade in the door. Of course, it took the same amount of time for Will to realize that the pirate was less than pleased with his actions. As the pirate advanced with his sword drawn, Will reached into the forge for the sword he had been starting earlier in the day.

Will was completely invigorated by the swordplay. He felt alive for the first time in years. It was as though he had been living within a carefully constructed shell to prevent letting his wilder side out. He had been pretending to be someone else on the off chance that Governor Swann would see him less as a blacksmith and more as a future son-in-law. The time for hiding was over. The damage had been done. Miss Swann had been threatened and although she was not hurt, the pirate would pay for it. The pirate made jibes at his manhood, at his ability to woo Miss Swann – all vain attempts to distract him from his parries.

At one point, Will was tossed into the rafters. Thinking fast, he cut loose a heavy sack which fell on the opposite end of the board, flinging the pirate into the rafters as well. Will became more and more excited with each blow he delivered. The pirate was, at last, unarmed and at Will's mercy – momentarily. The next thing Will knew, there was sand in his eyes blinding him. When he managed to open his eyes again, he found himself staring into the barrel of a gun.

"You cheated," he said incredulously.

"Pirate," the pirate reminded. Just then the sound of the soldiers could be heard pounding away at the locked door of the smithy. "Move away."

"No."

"Please move," the pirate said desperately.

"No!" Will insisted. "I cannot just stand aside and let you escape!"

"This shot is not meant for you," the pirate said, his eyes heavy with pleading. There was such sincerity in the pirate's voice that Will was tempted to believe him. Luckily, he didn't get the chance. Mr. Brown had _finally_ been awoken by the ruckus of the swordfight. He smashed his empty rum bottle over the pirate's head, knocking him unconscious.

The soldiers broke through the door and took control of the situation. "There he is! Over here."

Will looked up to see the newly appointed Commodore Norrington dressed in his formal uniform, looking splendid. A cold anger swept through Will's being at the sight of the man. He knew that Norrington had been with Elizabeth, there was no way he wouldn't have been – he wore regret like a badge and Will somehow knew that his proposal had been interrupted. Regardless, how could he have let Elizabeth be threatened by a pirate? Will decided quickly against Commodore Norrington as a match for Elizabeth and this time for more than his own personal happiness. If he could not keep her safe, he did not deserve her.

"Excellent work, Mr. Brown," Commodore Norrington said, pointedly ignoring Will's glare. "You've assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive."

"Just doing my civic duty, sir," he slurred sloppily.

Will rolled his eyes and conceded. What was the point in saying anything at all? The pirate had been apprehended and this ensured that Elizabeth was once again safe from harm.

"Well," Commodore Norrington started in an irritated tone, "I trust you will always remember this as the day Captain Jack Sparrow almost escaped. Take him away."

Will stood still for a moment, drinking in the name he had just heard. Captain Jack Sparrow. It sounded so very familiar. It was then that he remembered that Elizabeth had once told him an hour's worth of stories about the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Of all the pirates to have been in contact with Miss Swann, it had to be the one to whom she'd devoted many hours of study. Will closed his eyes and sighed. His effort had been fairly wasted, if his memory served him correctly. Captain Jack Sparrow was well-known for his diplomacy, trickery and quick tongue – not swordplay.

Will reached up and wiped the sand from his face. It had already become sticky with the humidity in the Caribbean air. A bell chimed mutely in the distance and Will sighed again. It was only noon. Today was going to be a very long day. At the very least, he thought as he trudged off to clean up, he'd gotten some exercise.

_AN#2: Why do I do this two AN thing? I'm a jerk, that's why. Anyway, did anyone else feel like I was writing some Jack/Will for a while there? Because I tell you, I kind of felt that way as I wrote it!! Shocking indeed._


	13. A Pirate and a Good Man

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Sorry for the huge delay in posting this. There has been a lot going on in my life AND I'm trying to write an original fiction. I realise that this chapter is short and I offer no apologies for that. Lately, you get what you get. Most of my work is currently on hiatus, so you might have to wait a bit for the next chapter as well. Sorry guys. Love love._

Will could scarcely believe all that had happened within the last twenty-four hours. He would have thought that his duel with the pirate had been the first and last exciting thing to happen to him in Port Royal, but lo and behold, not eight hours later even more excitement had come through town. It was a blur in Will's head and there was far too much to account for; it all seemed so surreal. First there had been the pirate attack on the town, followed by Elizabeth's abduction and then rounded off nicely this very morning with an outburst of violence from himself towards Commodore Norrington. In the end, what really happened, and this was the worst part of all, was that Will had joined forces with a pirate and stolen a ship!

Had Will been an outside observer, which at this moment he felt to be, he would have thought he'd gone mad! Perhaps he had, but what did it matter now that Elizabeth was on a pirate ship going to some cursed island with some of the cruellest men Will had ever encountered. He shuddered to think of what they might do to Miss Swann, shuddered to think of men with less scruples than himself. Will sighed loudly as he heard the irritating noises of Jack Sparrow sucking his teeth.

"Could you stop that, please?" Will said, turning around and facing the pirate. It was hard to think of Elizabeth with that insistent, disgusting noise going on in the background. Jack made a face at Will, followed by a mock bow before sauntering, drunkenly, to the helm.

"So," Jack started, now picking his teeth with his filthy fingernails. Will grimaced. "What's your story then?"

"My story?"

"Right," Jack replied, rolling his eyes. "Orphan? Eunuch? Orphaned eunuch?"

Will opened and closed his mouth and swept up his sword, not looking at Jack. It was hard for him to talk openly about anything and it was infinitely harder for him to talk about his mother at all. He began sharpening his sword in silence and Jack continued to stare at him. Will looked up once, catching Jack's insistent eye and raised eyebrows.

"Alright!" he said a little too loudly. "When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself. After she died, I came out here, looking for my father."

Will was rather proud of himself. Very succinct, very informative, he felt.

"Is that so?" Jack replied, suddenly sounding disinterested. Will stared at him for a moment and it then occurred that now would be the right time to ask about his father.

"My father," he started slowly, "Will Turner. At the jail, it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what I wanted, I didn't press the matter. I'm not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father."

Jack hesitated and then appeared to have decided upon addressing Will's allegations. "I knew 'im. Probably one of the few who knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him Bootstrap or Bootstrap Bill."

Will was flabbergasted. His heart pounded in his chest. A common, law abiding man would never have a nickname like 'Bootstrap'. He swallowed hard.

"Bootstrap?" he asked, his voice small.

"Good man. Good pirate," Jack said, turning to him. "I swear you look just like him."

"It's not true!" Will spat, the denial turning to chalk on his lips. "He was a merchant sailor! A good, respectable man who obeyed the law!"

"He was a bloody pirate! A scallywag!" Jack returned.

"My father was not a pirate!" Will exclaimed, drawing out his sword. This was less about his father now and more about himself. How could he admit that he had hated pirates all these years when the father he revered had once been one of them? Even if it was a lie, he would defend it. Even if his chances were slim as a blacksmith, he still had a chance. If Governor Swann found out he was the son of a pirate, he would never be allowed near Elizabeth.

"Put it away, son. It's not worth you getting beat again."

"You didn't beat me!" Will exclaimed, his sense of honour and dignity enflamed. "You ignored the rules of engagement! In a fair fight, I'd have killed you."

Jack turned to him and in an instant the sword was from Will's hand and he was left hanging precariously over the water. "Then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair, is it?"

Will struggled to maintain his grip and then decided on relaxing against the yard. A struggle would only tire him out longer.

"Now, as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do."

Jack paused to be sure Will was following. "For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate _and_ a good man, or you can't. But, pirate is in your blood, boy. So, you'll have to square with that some day. Now, me for example, I can let you drown but I can't pull this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy?"

Jack swung the yard back onto the ship and handed Will his sword. "So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?"

Will realized that he couldn't change the facts of his past, whether he wished to believe them true or not. On top of that, his drowning would serve Elizabeth no purpose and years ago he'd promised himself to protect her. A wicked thought passed through his mind at that moment – perhaps Commodore Norrington would no longer want Elizabeth after this ordeal. Immediately, Will felt guilty for such thoughts and sincerely hoped that nothing would happen to Elizabeth while she was with the pirates. He hoped against hope that they would not kill her, but he also knew that pirates – a whole ship of them – could do a lot worse to her by keeping her alive. Will took his sword from Jack.

"Tortuga?" he asked.

"Tortuga."

Will sharpened his sword endlessly, for hours after that conversation. The fact was that the noise was starting to grate on what little nerves Jack had left. He looked at Will and frowned.

"You really _do_ need a girl, mate."

Will glanced at him but the slight didn't seem to inflict him at all. Will went back to his sword and Jack rolled his eyes and stared out over the ocean.

"Will they hurt her?" Will asked finally, still working away on his sword.

Jack glanced at Will and shrugged slightly. "That depends," he replied softly. "Seems to me that once your bonnie lass was in their possession, they left."

Will stopped moving and stared at Jack. "What does that mean?"

"Well," Jack replied, leaning lazily against the side of the ship. "It means they _think_ they need her for something. If they needed a woman, they would have grabbed more than one."

Internally, Will sighed in relief. There was something in what Jack had said that was still bothering him, however. It was his word choice. There always seemed to be something just a little off about it. Jack spoke in quarter, half and three-quarter truths – that much Will was sure of. How much of the truth had he been telling Will just then?

"So they wouldn't hurt her if they need her?" he asked for clarification.

Jack looked at Will and frowned. He seemed to contemplate his question for a while before deciding on saying nothing. A deep feeling of unease set into Will's stomach.

"How long until we reach Tortuga?" he asked finally.

Jack smiled rather kindly. "Not long at all," he replied softly.

It was at that moment that Will decided there was more to Captain Jack Sparrow than meets the eye and perhaps it was possible for a man to be both good _and _a pirate.


	14. Tortuga and Beyond

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.**

_AN: This is like fifty years late. I'm sorry. I'm having a super hard time finishing this. :( Maybe I should have ended it right at COTBP...TOO LATE NOOOOOW! Haha. Sorry it's so short. _

Tortuga was nothing short of the worst possible place imaginable to Will. The ground was littered with drunken pirates, there were woman lurking behind every corner, grinning madly with their white faces and bright hair. This place, he decided, _disgusted _him. Jack bounced about from here to there, getting slapped in the face more than once, until he found a man sleeping with the pigs. This man was very vaguely familiar to Will, and as his mind removed the inch of grime from his face, Will realized that the man was from the ship that he'd been rescued by. Gibbs was his name. What the devil was he doing in a pig pen in Tortuga? Will decided instantly that he'd best not ask.

Will knew that if you wanted a crew of pirates, you would have to find said pirates in a location known only to…pirates. The more he saw, the more concerned he grew for the welfare of Miss Swann. If these women were any indication of how pirates perceived women in general, then Miss Swann was in more than one type of danger. But, more importantly presently was the conversation occurring at the table behind him. Jack was informing Mr. Gibbs that Will himself was 'leverage'. Leverage for what, Will wondered. He tucked it back into the recesses of his mind and decided to simply observe how things played out. He still needed to rescue Elizabeth, regardless of what Jack's ulterior motives might be.

Will turned, both of the men drank back the remnants of their tankards and looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" he asked impatiently, "Where do we get the crew?"

Jack smiled widely and spread his arms out. "Here! Of course!"

Will frowned. "Of course."

Jack looked at Gibbs who was smiling happily as the effects of the drink took over. "Well?"

Gibbs frowned in confusion.

"Get me a crew, Mr. Gibbs!" Jack shouted. Will had never seen a man jump up and run about so quickly before.

"Aye aye, Captain." With that, he was gone and so was his smell. Will frowned at Jack again.

"Sit down, sit down, Young William," Jack said. Will sat down keeping his face impassive. "Fancy a pint, then?"

"No, thank you," Will said crisply. Jack frowned, shrugged and ordered two anyway. The drinks arrived at their table minutes later from the hands of a well-endowed, far too-young barmaid. She smiled at Will, who only responded with a horrified expression. Will turned said expression upon Jack.

"We should get out of here as soon as possible," Will said quietly as Jack proceeded to drink both of the tankards.

"As soon as we have a crew," Jack said, licking the foam from his lips. He turned his eyes upon some sordid wench and continued, "And some sleep."

Will followed his line of sight and grimaced in disgust. "Sleep?"

Jack turned to him with a leering smile. "Sleep."

Will shook his head and decided that he would serve his time much better in helping Mr. Gibbs find a crew. The sooner they had a crew, the sooner he could get to Elizabeth. Lord only knew what those pirates could, and well would, do to her. Will left the bar far behind him and headed towards the docks. The moon was full and bright, lighting up the pitch blackness of the Caribbean night. Suddenly his heart ached for the dull greyness of England in a way it had not in years. If Elizabeth were in England, she would not have been captured by pirates. Then again, she would not have found him floating in the sea. She would not have met him. He sighed heavily and wondered where she was. What was she doing? Was she safe?

A loud noise behind him startled Will and he turned quickly to discover some dirty pirate engaged in less than savoury activities with a woman of the night. Shuddering slightly, Will made his way past the panting duo. His choices were to head back to the pub where Jack was undoubtedly also engaging in similar unsavoury activities, or to try to find Gibbs, or better yet, to find some relatively safe place to get a bit of sleep. The latter of the three sounded best to Will at this point, but where would he rest?

As he approached the pub, a broken bottle whizzed past his head. This was decidedly not a safe place to sleep. He wandered around aimlessly before curling up inside the same pig sty that they'd found Gibbs in earlier. It smelled rancid and was horribly uncomfortable, but was also unquestionably the safest location for sleep. Sadly, he now understood why Gibbs was here in the first place. Despite his filthy surroundings, sleep found Will easily. It's not often one spends a day ruining his reputation by cavorting with pirates in the vague hopes of rescuing his unrequited love. Takes a lot out of a man.

Will awoke the next morning, disoriented and confused by his surroundings. The events of the last forty-eight hours pounded upon him unrelentlessly and he nearly jumped to his feet. Within moments, he was out of the pig sty and into the pub hollering for Jack. It was, of course, the very crack of dawn. Will, by nature, was used to getting up at this hour. Pirates and whores were not.

"Jack!" he hissed at the sleeping, half-clothed pirate. The blonde wrapped around his waist grimaced miserably, but did not open her eyes. Neither did Jack. "JACK!"

Jack's eyes popped open and he looked about in confusion. "Wot?" he asked sleepily.

"The crew? We must get back to sea!" Will insisted, tossing various items of clothing at Jack and inevitably hitting the blonde along the way. She glared at him openly.

"William. This can wait until…noon."

Will was suddenly enraged. Suddenly and deeply enraged. Elizabeth's _life_ was on the line. Her _life_. There was no way anything regarding Elizabeth Swann's safety could wait another minute.

"Jack," Will said, his tone crisp and sharp, demanding complete and full attention. Despite his youth and inexperience, he still managed with that tone to gain the total attention of both Jack and the blonde, who was simply intrigued. "You _will_ get out of bed. You _will _come to the docks with me where we will assemble a crew. Then we _will_sail to the Black Pearl and Elizabeth."

The truth was that his tone even startled himself, but where Elizabeth was concerned there was simply no time for twaddle-speak and dilly-dallying. Jack swallowed hard and nodded. Will seemed to soften instantly as though unexpectedly remembering himself. He looked from Jack to the blonde and turned a slight shade of pink. Awkwardly, Will made his way from the room mumbling something about waiting for Jack downstairs.

Jack joined him a few minutes later and Will still felt a bit awkward. He followed Jack to the docks where they were surprisingly met with a bright-eyed Gibbs and a rag-tag collection of sailors. The selection was scant and the outlook was grim. Will hadn't a clue how any of these washed-up individuals, including a very angry, forceful woman, were going to get him to Elizabeth. They apparently had met whatever pathetic criteria Jack required of his crew which, in fact, did not ease Will's mind. Regardless, at least they were finally off to rescue Elizabeth at last.

They'd been sailing for quite some time when a storm broke loose upon them. Will was once again on edge, watching mad Jack Sparrow as he kept checking his broken compass. Gibbs seemed to be the most solid foundation that Will had, so he decided to ask him.

"How can we sail to an island that nobody can find with a compass that doesn't work?" he shouted over the rampaging rain.

Gibbs merely gave him a knowing look. "Aye, the compass doesn't point North, but we're not trying to find North, are we?"

He then turned to Jack and mentioned dropping canvas. Jack insisted that it could stand to hold a bit longer. Jack said that they were catching up. Will's heart sped up a little. They were catching up, finally.

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There was a terrifying calm in the waters surrounding Isla de Muerta, and given the tale that Gibbs had just told Will, he wasn't surprised that this place was cursed. A horrifying chill that was entirely uncharacteristic of the Caribbean lay heavily in this place and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Will glanced at Jack warily. So there was more to the man than he had given him credit for, truly. This voyage was undoubtedly self-serving for Jack in regards to the Black Pearl, but Will had suspected this since the night in Tortuga. Leverage indeed. Well, he had long since decided that he would not be anyone's 'leverage'. But, he would play along and follow Jack to the island. He would play the game until he could find Elizabeth, and then he would be rid of Jack Sparrow and his band of ragtag pirates.

"Young Mr. Turner and I are to go ashore," Jack said.

"Captain! What if the worst should happen?" Gibbs asked. Jack turned to him.

"Keep to the code."

Gibbs nodded knowingly. "Aye, the code."

Will wondered what 'the code' was, but refrained from asking about it. All he really wanted to do was get to Elizabeth. He was certain that the code had nothing to do with him because he had nothing to do with pirates. As soon as Elizabeth was safe, he would never have _anything_ to do with pirates again if he could help it.


End file.
